


Hearts of Ice

by Hidlesworth



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bullying, Friendship, Friendship to Love, Hiddlesworth, High School, Hockey, Hockey Player!Chris, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skater!Tom, M/M, Romance, Sexuall chrisis, Sports, figure skating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hidlesworth/pseuds/Hidlesworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Chris live in two different worlds. Chris is a hockey player, well liked and popular. Tom is an ice skater, invisible and lonely.  </p>
<p>When Chris by accident sees Tom skating he finds himself enchanted by the boy and can't get him out of his head.  He dives headfirst into the mystery that is Tom. Behind the picture painted by his surrounding he finds an amazing but vulnerable boy and an unlikely friendship takes form.</p>
<p>But as Chris' feelings goes beyond friendship how will he cope? Will he be able to look past his prejudices and find true love or will his fear for the unknown win? </p>
<p>The story is Inspired by <a href="http://kaptajnbellamus.tumblr.com/post/39615218206/right-so-i-made-some-hiddlesworth-photoshop-in">This</a> manip created by <a href="http://kaptajnbellamus.tumblr.com">kaptajnbellamus</a> and as a figure skater myself I just couldn't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The blond boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This is a figure skating AU but most of the story will focus around Tom and Chris' relationship. I will keep the technical talk as low as I can and when there are technical terms I will try and find videos or pictures that can explain it.In the text you will find these: [0] which corresponds to a number down in the end notes. There's a link to an explanation for the things described. 
> 
> I will try and update once a week and I have already got five chapter ready so I hope I will be able to keep the deadlines.

When Tom Hiddleston three he saw his sister skate for the first time. He can’t remember it but his mother has told him that he was completely enamored by the dresses and music and that from that day on he had asked his parents if he could skate. For Christmas that year Tom got his very first pair of skates, a plastic pair kind you can buy in any sports store, and named them George and Elsa. He loved them with all his heart. A week later he had started taking figure skating classes and from the first time he set his little feet on the ice he had been hooked.

As time passed Tom changed George and Elsa for his first pair of real skating boots, a white second hand pair of Wifa prima, which were changed for a second hand pair of Wifa deluxe skatec, also white to Tom’s great displeasure, which were replaced by a pair of Edea Chorus, both new, black and, according to Tom, the best birthday present ever. When he entered his teens he went through two pairs of Edea Concerto in eighteen months before Kenneth Branagh became a trainer at Tom’s skating club and practically ordered him to get himself a pair of Risport RF2 super. [1] 

These skates are the one he’s still skating in and these are the one which is going to take him to the price podium in the British Championships.

Chris Hemsworth hadn’t seen a skating rink before the age of 13. Born and raised in Australian, Chris had spent his free time surfing or swimming. His world had been turned upside down, quite literally, when his father got employed at a business in England and the family moved to London, the other side of the world. He had spent three months sulking before one of his newfound friends had convinced him to come and watch one of his hockey practises. Chris had bought his own pair of rusty skates the next day and started playing the day after that. 

His surfing physique and stubbornness had ensured him a quick climb from the beginners group to the top team, where he learned that hockey was a sport for men and that skating girls where the hottest thing in the world and that they ‘totally digged hockey guys’. He also learned that if there ever was a boy figure skating he definitely was a big faggot who had perverted dreams of the hockey team, and that completely gave them permission to pick on him and learn him a lesson. 

* * *

Chris opens the door to the skating rink with his hip, the cold air rolling over him like an avalanche of ice cream, and hoists his duffel bag high up on his shoulder. Enter sandman by metallica is playing through his earphones and his fingers are flying over the keyboard. It’s Sunday and the skating rink are full of life. Upbeat music are playing loudly from the sound system but still can’t completely cancel out the sound of blades hitting the ice. The kiosk is open and tired looking parents flock around the coffee machine like moths around a lamp, keeping half an eye on their daughters out on the ice.

 _The figure skaters have the ice_ Chris notes absentmindedly and continues to walk towards the changing rooms. He casts a quick eye on the ice to see if it’s any of the older girls on the rink but from what he can see it’s only twelve year olds. Pity. He stops at that moment and takes looks back towards the ice. Twelve year olds? The really small children are supposed to have their beginners class right now and there’s supposed to be at least one of the older girls helping them stumble around on the ice. 

Groaning, he realises that that was last semester. It’s a new semester now, which means it’s a new skating schedule. He turns back to the entrance and the bulletin boards that hang on the wall next to the glass doors. His fingers trace the paper, searching for his team name, and with another groan he sees that they have both off ice and hockey practise today. Both team workout and skating in one day, and following each other as well. Great. Just fucking great. And as a cherry on top of the whole thing he realises that he doesn’t have enough time to go home between now and when the team workout starts, which means he’s stuck here. 

With an angry huff he stomps over to the cluster of parents, wrestles through, buys himself a bag of sweets, or candy as Chris had been taught it was called, and sits down on the grandstand. 

He sits there for almost twenty minutes before a loud roar suddenly breaks through Chris’ music and when he looks up he sees a grey haired man hugging a blond boy in t-shirt on the ice. The other skaters gather around the pair and it’s seems like the blond boy has done something worth celebrating. Chris snorts. As if a faggot could ever do something that impressive.

As even the parents’ interest turns towards the ice and the blond boy Chris rolls his eyes and begins pushing his earphones back into his ears. He’s just about to hit the play button when some obscure accordion music fills the rink. 

He halts his movements and looks up. The blond boys is shouting something to the grey haired man and they both laugh before the boy places himself in the middle of the ice and grabs hold of what Chris suspects is a pair of imaginary braces. He snorts and decides that this might be worth watching just for the laugh. 

But then the music restarts and the boys starts to move. He’s flying over the ice, making what looks like impossible steps without even as much as a blink of his eyes, and Chris is completely mesmerised. About twenty seconds after the boy begun his routine he flies off into what Chris can only call an impressive jump and when he touches the ice again the other skaters and parents break out into applause and cheers. [2] The boy doesn’t seem to hear this, but continues as if nothing has happend at all. He dances across the ice, his movement as fluent as water. His face seem to shine with joy and his whole presence just radiates energy. He jumps again, this time falling on his butt but he’s back on his feet so quickly that if Chris had blinked he’d missed the fall completely.[3] 

He then begins spinning, changing position several times and even foot.[4] The boy then performs some kind of waltzy dance before beginning a long and very complex looking sequence of different turns and steps.The music changes in the middle of the steps, becoming quicker and, if possible, even more french. He finishes it with a jumping spin, or maybe it was flying spin, one of the skating girls had told him once, and then dances along the ice once more.[5] He jumps one more time, two jumps right after eachother [6], before the grey haired man calls:

“Come one now Thomas! Just thirty seconds left!” And the boy, presumably Thomas, begins spinning again. This time he’s leaning back, his back arched to the point where Chris is sure he can see the very ice he’s spinning on, before he grabs hold of his blade and brings it up over his head, creating a outstretched loop. [7] All Chris can think is that if he ever tried something like that he would break his back. Thomas then changes foot and spins so quick that Chris is afraid he’s going to puke before finishing with a few calm steps and extravagant bow as the music quiets down.

The grey haired man raises both his fist in a victory gesture and skates over to clap Thomas on the back and hand him a bottle of water. The man talks excitedly, gesturing towards different places on the ice and doing ridiculous positions which is obviously representing various parts in the routine. Thomas nods and adds small thing himself between sips of his water bottle. The conversation seems to center around the place where Thomas fell and a couple minutes into the conversation the grey haired man ushers Thomas away. Thomas then positions himself in a really ridiculous position, skating forwards on his left foot in a big left turn with both his arms bent at ninety degrees and bent behind him and his right foot bent in a similar matter. Basically, he looks like he’s about to jump long jump. The grey hair man then skates up next to him and corrects the position before giving Thomas a push.

Thomas skates to the other side of the rink before doing some complicated steps and jumping about three meters in front of the man. The jump looks like the one he did when he fell but this time he manages to stay on his feet without any effort. He then turns to the man, crosses his legs and pulls his arms tight towards his chest while nodding. He then skates a couple of laps around the ice before exiting it. 

About now Chris realises he’s been staring at the boy for over a full ten minutes and quickly looks down at his phones and starts his music. He tries to push the boy out of his mind but he finds that he can’t. Thomas skated like he was made for the ice, like he breathed the music and fed of the admiration of his audience. He was born to do this. Perverted faggot or not, Chris can’t deny that this guy has some serious talent.

Forty minutes later the first of his teammates show up and Chris runs down to join them. There’s almost forty five minutes before the off ice training starts but there’s alot to fix beforehand. Gear to be prepared and put in the correct order. Not like those figure skaters who just needed to pull on their ballet shoes for skates and parade out on the ice. 

The level of testosterone in the rapidly filling changing room was just about as high as you would think it was in a locker room filled with eighteen year old boys. There were no hugs here, only manly embraces accompanied with at least the mandatory three dunks of: I’m not gay, on the back of whoever you were embracing. Punches and homophobic slurs were tossed around like there was no tomorrow and the whole thing smelled like sweat. 

Chris felt at home here.

Three quarters later the group of loud teenagers exit the changing room and head to the other side of the rink where there’s enough space to exercise. Their captain is there waiting for them. Coach Jackson. A huge, bald, black guy who’s missing a few teeth. He orders them to do a few laps around the rink before the real thing starts. Sit ups, push ups and jumping jacks. Exercise after exercise. 

As they finish walking wheelbarrow with each other the figure skating girls enter the ice. They’re clad in tight black leggings and puffy jackets, their hairs tied in high ponytails or buns. They wear gloves, and some even boot covers, in colourful colours. As they smile and laugh with each other, their long slim legs working side to side, they’re the definition of gorgeous. 

The whole hockey team is staring and a few even goes so far as to wolf whistle. If this is the view they’re going to have during the rest of the semester then Chris can’t complain. But then the boy called Thomas steps out on the ice and the appreciative woops morph into jeers. Thomas skates past their side with lowered head and he’s such a contrast to the Thomas Chris saw earlier Chris almost can’t believe it’s the same guy.

“Hey fuckers. Stop ogling and get the fuck back to work.” Coach Jackson calls and the team begins a new exercise with medicine balls. 

The team leaves the skaters alone during the rest of the off ice but there are still lingering looks, especially after warm up and the puffy jackets comes off, revealing tank tops and tight t-shirts, following the girls and whispered jokes about Thomas. 

Half past three Coach Jackson dismisses them with a shouted promise that ‘the fucker who dares to be late out on the ice have to clean the entire storage room where they keep their equipment with a toothbrush.’ 

Barely twenty five minutes later Chris and the rest of the team head out to sit and wait in one of the booths by the ice. Some kind of piano music plays and one of the girls are doing some steps across the ice while the others spin in the corners of the ice, mindful of the girl that’s obviously practising something to the music. Thomas is on the opposite side of the ice, skating on one foot back and forth in an eight, never once setting down the other foot gain speed. He does so until the music stops and the grey haired man from earlier, probably the coach, waves at him with his hand while talking to the girl who has just skated. 

Thomas flashes the coach a smile and skates away but his face falls as he sees Chris and his teammates. He skates around the red dot in the far right corner of the ice before the accordion music starts and he sets off again. [8]

But this time it’s not at all like before Chris notes with a some disappointment. He hadn’t looked forwards to see Thomas again or something but he wouldn’t have minded. Now, however, Thomas isn’t glowing with joy but looking more like he wants to hide. His head is facing the nonexistent audience but his eyes are glued onto the ice. His hands reach out but they hold no meaning. His shoulders are slightly hunched and he looks like he want the ice to break under his feet and for a black hole to swallow him whole. 

“Open your shoulders!” The Coach calls. “Feeling! Where is the feeling?!” 

When Thomas is little over halfway across the ice he suddenly falls and lands painfully on his side. The hockey team breaks out into laughter and when Chris gets jabbed in the side he lets out a half hearted chuckle himself. 

The coach stops the music and bellows at Thomas to do it again and do it properly this time. Thomas gets up and starts the whole sequence over again. This time he gets through only a third.

“Edge! Edge! Edge! Edge! Edge!” The grey haired man calls over and over again as Thomas skates before once again stopping the music. He yells some more and this time around Thomas gets through the whole thing, although not at all looking like he’s living it. He skates up to the Coach and they begin talking but Chris can’t hear what they’re saying.

The whole booth suddenly explodes with cheers and hockey player after hocker player jumps out on the ice, not giving a damn about the skaters still on it. It’s 16:00 and it’s their turn to occupy the ice. The girl quickly form a clung and skates off, chatting with each other about things that went well and things that sucked. Thomas and the coach slowly makes their way across the ice but on the way Gary, one of the biggest idiots Chris has ever met, skates past and slaps Tom on the head. 

“Hey! Knock it off!” The coach calls at them and the hockey guys laughs at them. Thomas and the coach make their way off the ice, the coach looking like he’s giving Thomas the ‘don’t care about them’ talk. Chris can see the blond nod once and rub his hand where he was hit, not seeming to take in the coach’s word. 

“Hemsworth are you sleeping?” Coach Jackson’s voice suddenly calls and Chris hastily skates over to where the team has gathered.


	2. The pen exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a fit good will Chris decides take a chance. The question, however, is whether this decision will lead to disaster or new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn you guys, Chris will be both and idiot and a douche in this fic at times and there will be homophobic language used frequently. 
> 
> Once again explanations will be found in the end notes and if there is something you'd like explained just tell me in a comment and I will do my best to explain it :D
> 
> Enjoy

The birds are tweeting outside the window, the sun is shining high on the sky, the air is brisk and warm and Chris is locked up inside school. He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair, which needs cutting but he’s just too lazy, and looks over at the clock mounted over the door.

08:34

Half an hour in school on the first day of the semester and Chris is already bored out of his mind. He looks down at the new schedule he received in his mail this morning, a new system which meant he didn’t get to witness the chaos around the reception as everyone arrives two minutes before first period starts and wants to get hold of their schedule. School really takes all the fun out of life. 

He’s in physics right now, a mandatory subject, and he hasn’t listen one second of the teacher talking about all they will have to do this year. Next period is math, which is funny but no way he’s telling anyone that, and then there is lunch and then English. After English it’s French and then he’s done. It’s no hockey today which means he can play video games the whole afternoon. But that isn’t for six and a half hours. 

Sighing, he picks up his pen and starts doodling in the corner of his notebook. A goal and a puck flying towards it. 

Almost ten minutes later the door flies open and a stressed out Thomas walks in, his backpack over one shoulder and his skating bag over the other. [1]

“You’re late mister Hiddleston.” The teacher mutters and a light goes off inside Chris’ head. This is Thomas ‘the faggot’ Hiddleston. The ice princess. The guy who everyone picks on because he’s somehow managed to end up at the bottom of the food chain. The same guy as Thomas ‘the amazing skater’ Chris saw yesterday. 

“Sorry. Skating practise.” Thomas mumbles and scans the classroom for an empty chair, a blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“How’s it going ice princess?” One of the students calls and the classroom break out into poorly suppressed giggles. Thomas looks at the floor and walks through the benches, getting tripped once but not falling over, right towards Chris. Frowning and looking around him, Chris realises the only empty chair is the one next to him. Oh fucking hell. 

Thomas quickly sets down his bags, sits down and starts pulling out the things he needs from his backpack. The skating bag he slides under his chair and protectively places his feet around it. 

After three minutes of digging through his backpack Thomas lets out a sigh of frustration and sets it down. He opens his notebook but doesn’t pick up a pen. Thomas just stares at the page as the teacher rambles on and on about the laws of nature and whatnot, Chris can’t bother listening, with his fisted hands resting on the blank paper. 

After a minute Chris realises that Thomas doesn’t have a pen to write with and after an additional five he’s decided to give Thomas one of his. No one sees them here anyway. That’s why Chris picked this seat. And besides, he’s got no teammates in this class so there won’t suddenly be some Dan turning around and throwing paper at him. 

“Hey, mate.” Chris whispers. Tom doesn’t look up. He appears to be tracing something on his paper, some complicated lines or whatever. 

“Mate.” Chris whispers a little louder. “Thomas. I’m talking to you.” Now Thomas reacts. His head shots up and he looks at Chris wearily. 

“Catch.” Chris tells him before throwing the pen over. Thomas catches it, but just barely, by trapping it between his chest and his hands. He lowers his hands and looks at the pen for a long moment before looking up at Chris with the most confused pair of eyes he’s ever seen. 

Chris lets out a quiet laugh at this but Thomas’ eyes hardens and he looks like he might throw the pen right in Chris’ eye so he stops laughing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” He says. “I saw you didn’t have one. Thought, since I had two, you could get one of mine.” He smiles and nods towards the pen in Thomas’ hands. 

“Thank you.” Comes the tight lipped answer from Thomas, who places the pen on the table next to his notebook. 

“I’m Chris by the way.” Chris introduces, holding out a hand for Thomas to take. The blond eyes the hand suspiciously, checking every angle in a way that makes Chris feel stupid somehow, before hesitantly taking it. 

“Tom.” He says. 

“Nice to meet you Tom.” Chris smiles and shakes Tom’s hand. He gets a mumbled response in return and when he lets go of Tom’s hand it shots back to its owner as if burned. They don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the lesson but Chris notice that despite not having touched it Tom still picks up the pen Chris gave him when the class is over. 

* * *

Chris spends the rest of the morning trying to ignore Charlie and Matt, two teammates, during the advanced math lesson without it looking too suspicious and then joining in with the rest of the team and starting a full out food war in the canteen during lunch. He would count it as a successful first day of school. 

That was, until he realised he had English next. With a sigh he said bye to his friends and began walking up the stairs. Why he had chosen advanced English he didn’t know. He had needed to chose something and at the time it probably seemed like the least boring choice, but now. Nope. Fucking boring as fuck. 

When he enters the classroom he notices that it was empty except for one figure reading in the far left corner. A figure with wild blond curls. 

Shrugging, Chris walks up to Tom and sits down next to him, dumping his things on the desk and pulling out his phone to play with while he waits for the lesson to start. He keeps looking over at Tom, noting what his reading, some Shakespeare, and that his skating bag is missing. Shit, his skating bag. What if someone took it? Not that he cared for the little fag but taking someones skates are not cool, as a hockey guy he knows. 

“Hey Tom. Where’s your skating bag?” He asks, leaning over a bit towards him. 

“What’s it to you where it’s at?” Tom spits back, his eyes never leaving the page he’s reading on. Okay? So what had he done to deserve that?

“I’m just making sure no one took it, because that’s not okay mate.” The words come out a bit harsher than he intended but Tom will have to deal with that. 

“Oh.” Tom breathes, squirming a bit in his seat. “No my. My dad came and picked it up.” He answers hesitantly.

“Well that’s good.” Chris nods and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’cha reading?” He jerks his head towards Tom’s book. 

Tom fingers on the page a bit, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “Hamlet.” 

“Cool.” Chris says even though he’s got no idea who this Hamlet is. “What’s it about?”

“Um...”

Chris can feel the awkwardness radiate from Tom. It’s like he’s never had a normal conversation ever before. Oh...

“Well it’s about a danish prince whose father, the king, gets murdered by the current king and Hamlet trying to get revenge basically.” Tom says and closes the book, carefully but quickly placing a bookmark between the pages. 

“That sound good. I mean the whole: You killed my father, prepare to die thing.” Chris says with a small laugh and Tom answers with a nervous laugh himself. 

“Well I-I guess you could see it like that.” He says and runs a hand through his unruly curls. He then tugs at his shirt and fiddles with his fingers. Chris tries to come up with something else to say and decides on the first thing that pops up in his head, which is really lame.

“So...Do you read a lot of Shakespeare then?”

“Not a lot but, some, I guess. I m-mean I have read them all but I don’t read them a lot a lot. I just...” Tom trails off and once again finds his nails very interesting. 

“Cool.” Chris says because he feels like he needs to save Tom from making a complete fool out of himself. “I haven’t read any of his books, but you know. It’s never too late.” 

“Yeah.” Tom does that nervous laugh thing again and Chris decides that’s maybe enough conversation for a guy like Tom. 

Five minutes later the classroom is full and the teacher, Miss Summers, enters the room. She begins with calling everyone’s name before talking about what she expects to go through this year. In the midst of grammar and old authors and stuff like that, once again Chris doesn’t listen to this, she mentions reading Shakespeare and doing a presentation in front of the class. 

Chris whisper shouts Tom’s name and tells him: 

“I told you I’ll get to read one.” But Tom only responds with another “Yeah.” And a nervous laugh. Poor guy. What if Chris had broken him?

* * *

The last period is just a blur in Chris’ mind. It’s French so he didn’t really expect anything different from that. In the end he’s quite sure he just spent the hour messing with Robert and irritating the teacher. Well, what can one do? 

The moment the bell rings he’s out of his chair and on the way out and home. He’s got a new copy of Assassin's Creed 3 waiting for him back at home. Halfway through the parking lot he realises he forgot his headphones in his locker and turns back with a groan. The school is close to empty, the students either on their way home or in class. He runs up the stairs and jogs to his locker. 

After a well placed kick his locker finally opens and he fishes out his headphones before closing the door. Leaning his back against the fake wood, he plugs them in and begins scrolling down his music list. He puts on some Mumford and Sons, what? they’re really good, and begins to slowly walk back out while queueing enough songs to last him the underground ride home. 

“What do you want with me?” 

Chris looks up, his hand by his ear and ready to push his second earphone in. Tom is standing before him, looking like it’s taking all of his courage not to run away. Chris must have accidently followed Tom when he wasn’t looking where he was going because there was no way on earth this guy had the guts to just walk up and confront Chris.

Chris looks over his shoulder before fixing Tom with a confused stare. 

“Me?” He points at his chest.

“Yes.” Tom says determinedly. “If you want your pen back you can have it.” He holds out the pen Chris gave him this morning. “I haven’t used it so you don’t need to worry about catching the gay or something.” He adds when Chris doesn’t take it. 

“You can keep it.” Chris tells him and gestures to the pen. 

“What?”

“Well when I gave it to you I intended you to keep it.” Chris says and raises his eyebrows.

“Why are you talking to me. I won’t help you in English, if that’s what you want. Nor will I help you in physics.” Tom insists, his eyes flicking from looking at Chris and behind him. 

“I don’t need your help.” Chris tells him.

“Then why are you talking-” Tom prompts quickly but Chris cuts him off.

“Just shut up for a second, okay? I’m trying to tell you.” 

Tom flinches and hangs his head. This time it’s his shoelaces that are interesting. 

Chris sighs, mutters ‘thank you’ and starts thinking about why he actually started talking to Tom. It wasn’t just to give him a pen. He just don’t give pens to people. He’s not that kind of guy. No, it was something else. With another sigh he realises exactly why.

“Look. I saw you yesterday, in the skating rink when you were skating to that french music.” He says and, upon seeing Tom’s alarmed expression, adds. “No. I meant earlier, when it was just you and all those twelve year olds. You were skating to that music and you looked, wow this is going to sound gay as fuck but you looked amazing. You skated like you were born to skate. Like you were some freaking lab experiment that created the perfect skater. You looked so alive and so happy but then later, when me and the team looked at you you looked nothing like you did then. And I guess I just. I don’t know. I thought you were lonely or something and might need someone to hang with sometimes or something.” Chris shrugs and kicks at a pebble on the ground. 

Tom doesn’t answer, but when Chris looks up he can see him trying to suppress an idiotic grin from taking over his face.

“You really want to be my friend?” He asks and it sound so innocent and hopeful that Chris can’t say no even though he’s quite sure he don’t want to be Tom’s friend. He just didn’t want him to be alone, more or less.

“Sure. Wanna change numbers?” He suggest and janks out the headphones from his phone before handing it to Tom. Surprise flashes on Tom’s face before he reaches into his backpack and pulls out...The new Iphone 5!? 

“Dude! is that the Iphone 5?” Chris says and takes it from Tom’s hand, trusting his own old 3GS into Tom’s. 

“Yeah.” Tom says and he looks a bit on edge, his hands twitching towards the phone in Chirs’ hands. 

“Chill, I’m not going to run away with it or anything.” Chris says and flips it over in his hands. Oh god he’d give anything for this. 

“Was it your birthday recently or something?” Chris asks as he slides open the look. Oh God! The touch is so smooth.

“No. I-I bought it myself.” Tom tells him, still nervous. 

“How? This is so fucking expensive!” 

“I won this competition in Germany last month.” Tom mumbles, like he’s ashamed over it. 

“You won? Awww mate. An international competition? With prize money and everything? That’s like the coolest thing I’ve heard.” Chris eyes are full of wonder when he looks at Tom.

“Really? Thanks.” Tom says and runs his hand through his hair, grinning like a loon while doing so. 

“No prob.” Chris punches in the last digits of his number in Tom’s phone, although punching isn’t the right word, it’s more like softly stroking, before handing it back. Tom gives Chris’ old slow Iphone back with the cracks in the screen. The Australian pretends he doesn’t notice how Tom seems to be clutching his phone like it’s the most precious thing he owns after he confirmed that it was really Chris’ number in there and not some fake. 

“Oh Shit. I’ve got to go.” Chris gasps as he sees the time on his phone. He doesn’t need to go but the silence that happened after they gave each other’s phones back was awkward enough without Tom going all Gollum on Chris’ number. He turns around and decides to take the long way out of school, it’s only a few minutes more to the underground and the weather is nice. 

“See you in English tomorrow.” Tom calls after him.

“Sure.” He calls back and hopes that Tom won’t fill his inbox with pointless texts now that he’s finally got a number to text to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]  A skating bag is where you keep your skates when not using them. They come in various colours and designs but these two are the two designs I've seen the most [1](http://images.loveiceskating.co.uk/1/1343221099_14.jpg) & [2](http://www.northerniceanddance.com/store_/images/star_purple.jpg)  
> I imagine Tom has the number 1 design
> 
> Thank you all so very much for the response. I can't believe the amount of views, kudos, comments and bookmarks this fic has already got. I really hope I can keep up with your expectations and that you won't be disappointed future chapters. If there is anything at all you're wondering about or want to tell me just ask away. I will answer everything I can answer.
> 
> Other than that, see you next Monday :)
> 
> Comments are Lovely <3


	3. The Dragon Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A PE lesson makes Chris guilty and in order to make up for it decides to spend more time with Tom. When he by chance gets to watch one of Tom's skating sessions he has an unexpected realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dears and once again thank you so much for the response! This is amazing :D I really hope this new chapter won't disappoint anyone and that you will want to continue following this story. 
> 
> Once again explanations will be found in the end notes and if there is anything you wonder about just ask away :)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter

As it turns out Tom does not flood his inbox, in fact he doesn’t send a single text, nor does he run up to Chris and embarrass him in public the next day. He seems to have understood that Chris and him are from different places on the social ladder, Chris is at the top and Tom is the bottom. Well....that’s good.

They do speak in second period English but it’s Chris who initiates the conversations. It’s just a small exchange of words. Chris wondering what Tom did yesterday (skating) and Tom returning the question (video games). Tom tells him that he used to play a lot of video games when he was younger but doesn’t got the time now. When Chris asks what he used to play he’s surprised to hear some of the titles. Dead space, Halo, CoD. Tom actually got more balls than he first thought. 

The next period is PE, the best fucking subject _ever_. Chris joins up with some of his teammates and the locker room experience for everyone except for them was probably not so very fun, although the football team seemed to shout just as much as they did. 

He didn’t see Tom in the changing room but when he walks in inside the gym hall he’s standing there, wearing a pair of black shorts and a too big t-shirt. He’s doing an excellent job of hiding himself and Chris decides that he’s going to allow Tom to stay hidden.

Their PE teacher, Mr Gregg, walks out a moment later and the chatter immediately dies down because you do _not_ mess with Mr Gregg. 

“Hi class. I’m Clark Gregg but you will be referring to me as either Mr Gregg or Teacher.” He begins and clasps his hands together. “This year we’ll be doing various of different thing including, among other thing, swimming, football, baseball, cross training, skating,” Chris and his teammates let out manly yells of excitement at this. “dancing, rugby and yoga. Today-” Mr Gregg gestures to the many gym mats spread out over the floor. “-we’ll be doing some gymnastics.” 

The boys in the class groan and the girls squeal at this.

They start off with a simple warm-up. Basic stuff, some jogging, some stretching, some jumping jacks, that kind of stuff. They then starts with some tumbles on the floor before going over to doing cartwheels. Chris actually tires, unlike some of his friends because he wants a well paying job in the future, but it feels more like he’s looking like a monkey fooling around than doing cartwheels. There are some of the dancer girls who nail their cartwheels perfectly without any assistance. And then there is Tom, who also cartwheels like he’s done nothing else his entire life. 

They then move on to handstands and now it’s only Tom who manages a proper one for longer than a few seconds. Mr Gregg praises him before walking over to a giggling pair of girls and showing them different techniques. Tom goes up into another handstand, his shirt tucked into his shorts, and stands almost completely still, just shifting his hands in minute movements to keep balanced.

Chris looks at the way the muscles in Tom’s arms work and at the concentrated expression he’s wearing. He wonders if this is what Tom looks like before going off into one of those jumps. He notices too late that Gary and Charlie has snuck up behind Tom, both of them giggling. 

Charlie places both of his hands on either side of Tom and then quickly and painfully jabs him in the sides with his index fingers. Tom yelps and his arms give out, causing him to collapse head first down on the floor. 

“Don’t strain yourself princess.” They tell the little heap that is Tom on the floor. Tom doesn’t answer, he just stares at the floor. 

When they walk away Chris can see Tom massaging his shoulder, which took most of the blow, with a pained expression. 

During the rest of the lesson Tom stays as far away from the few hockey team members he can. They move on to jumping of vault boards next, at first just jumping and getting to know the proper technique but then moving on to more advanced stuff like split jumps, jumping over plinths and in the very end even somersaults. Tom and one of the dancing girls are the only ones who manages to do everything and Mr Gregg points out to the whole class that this has to do with body control. Tom spends the next five minutes getting shoved around in the queue, people teasingly asking him about his body control. Mr Gregg is too busy making sure no one lands on their head to take notice of the bullying. 

The teacher stops them all when it’s twenty minutes left of the lesson, which confuses Chris alot. Are they being released early? That would be awesome because he’s really hungry now.

“Okay. As you all probably knows flexibility is a big part of gymnastics and therefore we’re going to spend the rest of the lesson stretching.” Mr Gregg says and Chris’ face falls. He hasn’t been able to reach his toes in like...ever!

“Oh, come on teach! Just let us go.” Gary calls out and Mr Gregg shot him a look that would have killed Gary on the spot if he had dared to die at that moment. As it is, he’s probably even stopped breathing just to make sure he isn’t moving.

“You can leave and get a detention lasting for the rest of the year or you can stay here and stretch. Your choice.” Mr Gregg says and it’s clear there’s no choice at all. 

“I’ll stay here.” Gary says and hangs his head. Mr Gregg gives him a nod and then tells them all to gather around in a big circle. They begin with some basic leg stretches before the first challenge comes. Touch your toes. Chris manages to reach his shoelaces, which he certainly would reward with an A for effort.

The next thing is a back bridge and the goal is to do it from a standing position by bending backwards and slowly placing your hands on the ground. [1] They get a gym mat each and Chris manages to fall flat on his back. It’s a way to do it without bending backwards by putting your hands by your ears and then pushing up[2]. Chris notices that this hurts his back and makes his arms tired, he also notices that Tom is extremely good at this as well, his back bending beyond what Chris is sure is humanly possible.

Then it’s the splits. [3] Which is hilarious while looking at other people trying but not so hilarious when trying it yourself.

“Aww man. Lo-ok at that!” Charlie whispers to him and gestures to the right where the dancer girls are doing the splits perfectly. Chris hums appreciatively. 

“Okay, middle splits now!” Mr Gregg calls a minute later. “Be careful not to hurt your hip.” [4]

Chris watches as the dancer girls tries, only one of them coming close and then looks around the room and noting that almost everyone else has given up. Everyone, except Tom. He’s laying flat on the ground, his legs spread out to the side and his head resting in his right hand. The other one is drawing the same swirls as he had done in his notebook. 

“Excellent Thomas.” Mr Gregg compliments. Tom’s head shots up at the mentioning of his name and a small bush creeps up his cheeks. 

“Yeah, Excellent Tommy boy. Your boyfriend likes to fuck you in that position?” Gary barks out and the whole class breaks out in a giggle fit. Tom quickly sits up and folds his legs under him, looking like he wants the world to swallow him whole. 

“Okay that’s enough Gary!” Mr Gregg shouts. “Principal’s office. NOW!” He grabs Gary by the arm and pulls him into a standing position before shoving him towards the door. “Class dismissed.” 

The students, who had abruptly quieted when Mr Gregg shouted, quickly leaves the gym. With one final look back at Tom Chris sees how the boy is still sitting on the floor and how Mr Gregg are kneeling down next to him.

* * *

During the next few days Chris made an effort to talk a bit more to Tom. He didn’t know why ( _Yes you do,_ his conscious told him. _You feel sorry for him. You have been bullying him just as much as your teammates. You want to apologize because Tom is actually a nice guy who’s never had any friends and you’re the reason to why he’s never had any._ ) But it felt like the right thing to do. 

He talked to him during physics, he talked to him during English, he tried to talk to him during lunch but couldn’t find him, he even went so far as to text him. Which was quite far if you asked Chris. Tom answered several hours later and it was quite clear he didn’t know how to have a text conversation.

Friday the same week Chris has hockey practise two hours after school, which means he doesn’t have time to go home between school and hockey and that sucks. On his way to the tube someone runs into his shoulder and something falls out from their open bag. Chris bends down and looks at it. It’s a plastic package containing a pair of beige, graying silicone tubes. He turns over the package. There are pictures drawn of feet wearing the tubes on the back of the package and some text but Chris can’t read chinese so he just ignores it. In the top right corner ‘ _Tom Hiddleston_ ’ is written in black marker. [5]

Chris looks up and spots Tom’s curly hair bobbing up and down some ten meters in front of him. He thinks about running after him but then remembers that Tom had told him he had skating practice after every school day, and since Chris is going to the rink he can just give him these...whatever the hell they are when he gets there. 

He drops his duffel bag on the tiled floor inside the station and tucks away the package. With a huff he hoists the bag up on his shoulder again and then lets himself be swept away with the crowd.

It’s ten minute wait on the platform, maintenance or some shit, and then a quarter long ride. When he reaches the rink it’s 16:28 in the afternoon. He walks to the corridor where the changing rooms are and then realises that he has no idea where Tom changes. After a few walks up and down the aisle he finds the door that says London’s artistic skating club and knock’s carefully, because he does _not_ want to walk in on Tom changing. 

“Come in.” Someone calls from within and Chris carefully opens the door. 

“Have you seen my ankle sleeves?” Tom asks while searching through his backpack. “I think I forgot to pack them yesterday because I can’t find the-e...” He falters and and falls quiet when he lays eyes on Chris, his hands coming up to wrap his jacket closer around himself. 

“Hey.” Chris says and pulls out his earphones.

“Hello.” Tom says and looks down at his feet. Chris follows his eyes and sees that Tom is barefoot, plasters wrapped around both of his little toes and a sports tape wrapped around his left heel and foot. 

“What are you doing here?” Tom asks after a moment of silence.

“Oh yeah.” Chris tears his eyes away from Tom’s abused feet and throws his duffel bag on the bench next to Tom. Tom pulls up the zipper on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair as he watches Chris rummage through the bag.

“A-ah!” Chris says triumphantly and hands Tom the package with his name on. “Here you go.” 

Tom’s eyes widen as he sees what Chris got in his hands. Suddenly Chris finds himself with a pair of arms around his neck and a body pressed closed to his. 

“Oh thank you so very much Chris.” Tom says and Chris feels something warm and fuzzy fill his stomach. He decides to ignore that. 

The next second Tom has jumped a meter back and is holding up his hands.

“I’m so sorry. I... I didn’t mean to hug you. I’m sorry. It’s okay if you want to leave and you don’t have t-to hang with me anymore. I understand.” Tom says, his shoulders pulled up and his hands fiddling with the package Chris just handed him.

“Woah Tom. Chill man. It’s just a hug, okay.” Chris says, feeling a bit weirded out. Well the hug had been a bit too gay for his comfort but well...what else can you expect from a homo. At least Tom hadn’t groaped him. 

“I have to get out on the ice.” Tom says quietly. 

“Can I watch?” Chris asks with a shrug,

“Watch?”

“Yeah. Watch you skate.”

“O-okay.” Tom says and sinks down on the bench. He opens the package, turns one of the silicone tubes inside out, pulls it up past his heal before grabbing the other end and pulling it up so it’s fitted around his ankle. He does the same with the other tube, his eyes flickering towards Chris the whole time.

“Do you always have all those things on your feet when you skate?” Chris points at Tom’s feet. Tom looks up from where he’s searching for a pair of socks. He looks down at his feet, turning them around a bit and revealing some more plasters on his footpads.

“Yeah...” Tom shrugs and wiggles his toes before pulling on his socks. Tom reaches over and takes out his skates. He has a pair of fluffy, blue covers around his blades[6]. Tom pushes his feet in the boots, pulls out a pair of gloves from his bag and begins to tie his skates, pulling as hard as he can on each loop. 

When Tom came to the three hooks he laced the first pair twice, from above the first time and from underneath the second time. The second pair of hooks he laced just from above and the third pair just from underneath. His hands worked with such custom and speed Chris wouldn’t have noticed the odd lacing if he hadn’t watched Tom do it twice.

Pulling down his tights over the top part of his boot, Tom stood up and bent his knees a couple of times and rotating his feet. He then sat back down, changed the blue blade covers for a pair orange of blade guards and his gloves for a pair of purple ones filled with holes before standing up and grabbing his phone. He casts Chris a hesitant look and Chris stands up and follows Tom out to the rink. [7]

“You have private practise sessions?” Chris asks as he notices that the ice is alone except for that grey haired coach.

“Yeah, but only for half an hour. The girls get on at a quarter past.” Tom tells him. They walk into the booth and Tom does some weird kind of squats before shaking his legs and arms, loosening the muscles. 

“Tom, you’re late.” The grey haired man glides up to the booth and gives Chris a suspicious look. 

“Sorry Kenneth. I was talking to Chris. M-my friend.” The last word sounds like a question when Tom says it. He pulls off his blade guards and steps out on the ice.

“Nice to meet you Chris. I’m Kenneth Branagh.” Kenneth hold out a hand for Chris to shake.

“Chris Hemsworth.” Chris takes Kenneth’s hand and gives it a firm shake. Kenneth is still giving him that look of distrust and Chris suspect that it might have something to do with the fact that he’s on the hockey team and that they probably aren’t so popular in Kenneth’s eyes. 

“Well you can go sit on the grandstand if you want to watch.” He tells Chris before turning around and watching Tom skate around the ice. Feeling a bit rejected, Chris walks up to the nearest seat and sits down. His eyes follow Tom as he does his warmup. 

After five minutes Tom stops next to Kenneth and the two of them talk, their eyes flicking up towards Chris every now and then. Suddenly Kennet grabs Tom’s shoulder and gives it an excited shake and Tom adops that sheepish expression Chris has only seen on him. It’s quite adorable...in a manly and totally not gay way. 

Then Tom skates away, the crisp sound of his blades slicing the ice filling the quiet rink. He does various jumps and some spins during the following ten minutes before Kenneth stops him again. They talk for a minute before Tom shrugs out of his puffy coat, skates away and stops by the red dot closest to Chris.

There is a moment of silence before quick piano music starts and Tom spins away to the side in quick steps before taking off forwards into a jump which he lands the moment the music changes tone from light to threatening, and Tom changes with it. He goes from being a pretty blond on skates to a predator. His skating is aggressive and Chris almost can’t believe that this is the same boy as the one who doesn’t dare to talk to anyone in school. 

The music eases a bit and Tom calms down and goes into a beautiful spin. The music is graceful and fiery at the same time, like a dragon. He empowers absolute power for almost two minutes before the music changes into a hesitant violin and Tom once again changes. It feels like you’re watching a story and now you get to see who’s under the strong mask and realises that it’s only a hesitant boy looking for answers. 

But just as quickly as the music slowed it now explodes into rage. Tom sets of into a quick sequence of small jumps and quick turns, his expression glowing with malice and hatred. He spins again before doing an amazing jump combination with three jumps. 

The piano music returns and Tom softens for a moment and you can see the hesitation again but this time more paranoid than before. Just like last time he explodes into the dragon once more. There is one final jump and then a spin before the music ends. 

Chris cheers. He doesn’t know why but it just feels right. Tom quickly turns around towards him, almost falling over but Kenneth is there to steady him.

“That was bloody amazing mate!” Chris shouts, giving Tom a dorky thumbs up. Not caring at all about how he looks because right now he just want Tom to know what an amazing experience he just gave Chris.

Tom throws his head back in a laugh and shouts his thanks back, a big smile on his face. Chris knows that he has one equally big on his face but once again he couldn’t care less. He wants Tom to smile like that all the time. He wants to hear Tom laugh like that at least once every day. He wants more of Tom’s overly friendly hugs. He want to watch more of Tom’s skating practises. He wants Tom to play videogames with him. He wants Tom to chat with him in class.

With a sharp intake of breath Chris realises he actually does want to be Tom’s friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] **[The backbend  
>   
> ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFs4ai9qJtk)**[](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFs4ai9qJtk)[2] ****[The back bridge](http://youtu.be/6lhZpOKk3oo?t=1m17s)
> 
> [3] **[The sideways splits](http://0.tqn.com/d/dance/1/0/x/C/-/-/splits1.jpg)**
> 
> [4] **[The middle splits](http://0.tqn.com/d/dance/1/0/n/2/-/-/split6.jpg)**
> 
> [5] **[Ankle sleeve](http://www.teijasskateshop.com/ProductItem.aspx?productid=225) ** (They come in different sizes and designs but these are the ones I use myself and I find them to be really good)
> 
> [6] **[Soft blade covers](http://www.icestar.ee/s2/509_535_s_g_SOFT_TEXTILE_de69o.jpg)** (You have these around your blades when you're not using the skates. They protect the blades and make sure they stay dry so your blades don't rust. They also come in the form of [blade buddies](http://www.silhouette-dance.com/site_assets/www.silhouette-dance.com/images/dynamic/blade%20buddies.jpg). I own a pair of duck ones.
> 
> [7] **[Blade guards](http://www.silhouette-dance.com/site_assets/www.silhouette-dance.com/images/dynamic/SkateGuards.jpg) ** (Whenever you walk with your skates you use these to protect the blade and make sure it stays sharp.)
> 
> Tom's free skating music (the longer routine) is ****[Dragon boy](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ArsV7AFZBHY) by Joe Hisaishi
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> Thank you so very much for reading:)
> 
> Comments are lovely <3


	4. Super Mario

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting what you want is seldom easy, even though it might be something so little and insignificant as a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again dearies :D Thanks so very much for all the feedback I have received (I still squeal when I think about it) <3
> 
> Enjoy the chapter

Thursday morning the next week Chris realises that even though he now genuinely wants to be Tom’s friend things are not that easy. He’s Chris Hemsworth. He can’t just begin hanging out with the school’s biggest loser. Nor can he just talk and hang with Tom at the skating rink because most times at least of his teammates are there which meant he has to hang with them. If there somehow came out that he actually spent serious time with Tom Hiddleston then he could just kiss his life goodbye. He’d fall down to the bottom of the food chain faster than the speed of light. 

He’s slowly pushing through the crowd that’s gathered in the corridors of his school. First period is just about to start and every single fucking student seems to think it’s hilarious to stand in a row in the middle of the corridor, blocking the way for everyone who tries to pass. 

When he gets stuck behind the third group of fifteen year old girls chatting in five minutes he has run out of patient.

“Fucking move out the way!”

The girls yelps and quickly moves out of the way, shooting Chris dirty looks and whispering among each other while doing so. Chris just rolls his eyes and continues forwards to his French lesson. Not that he cares about being late but getting put up for late arrival because a couple of chaws wanted to discuss nails is not something he’s okay with. 

He enters the classroom a second before the teacher locks the door and sits down next to Mark and Robert, two teammates. He and Robert spend the lesson messing with each other and Mark, who’s trying to actually study French. Pssssht. What are you going to do with French in the future?

The lesson after French is physics, which means he’s going to see Tom. His lips twitch upwards at the thought. He had thought about inviting Tom over to him after school, play some games or something. English after lunch is canceled and both Tom’s and his day is over after that, which means that their school day basically ends after this lesson. 

Well, that makes physics a bit more bearable. 

When he enters the classroom however, he can’t spot Tom anywhere. The chair in the corner by the window (a spot Chris has begun to refer to as Tom’s spot) is empty. Figuring he’s probably just late, Chris takes the seat next to it and pulls out his notebook and pen and waits. After a minute he draws a penis on the blank page and chuckles before getting bored and once again dropping the pen. 

When the lesson starts there is still no Tom in the seat next to his and he doesn’t show up during the first half hour either. After forty five minutes Chris resigns to the fact that Tom isn’t coming and is probably home sick or at the dentist or something similar.

With a sigh he pulls up his phone and spots a message from Tom. Frowning he clicks it open and reads it. 

**Hello Chris. Could you please go to the cleaning closet on the third floor and let me out. You don’t need to hurry.**

**/Tom**

He drops his head in his hands and rubs his face. Typically Tom. No one else would manage to get themselves locked inside a cleaning closet. He still feels guilty for having done these things himself to Tom. 

He remembers five years ago when he had been one of the guys who had pushed Tom in the mud and ruined his clothes. He remembers ninth grade when he had kept watch outside the bathroom as some other guys had jammed Tom’s head down the toilet. They hadn’t done that one anymore after that because Tom had thrown up and they had gotten scared, wondering if they had hurt him. He remembers spending the last few years spitting slurs after him in the corridors. A particularly vivid memory of a Tom holding back tears after they had poured soup over him in the canteen at age sixteen flashes before his eyes and he groans. 

He really is a douche isn’t he? 

The moment the teacher tells them the class is over Chris is out of his chair and heading towards the cleaning closet. He takes the stairs two at the time until he’s reached the top floor. The third floor isn’t large so there is only one closet. He turns left and follows the empty corridor. 

He can see the chair jammed under the door handle long before he actually reaches the door. He grabs hold of the plastic and pulls but the chair doesn’t move. He pulls harder. Still nothing. He changes technique and slowly coaxes the chair out from under the handle. Grabbing hold of the handle and yanking the door open, Chris sees Tom sitting with his eyes closed by the far wall. He doesn’t open his eyes even though the light hits him in the face.

“Hey mate.” Chris calls and Tom slowly opens his eyes and smile a bit.

“Chrish...” He mumbles and then yawns, arching his back and screwing his eyes shut. “I fell asleep.” 

Chris chuckles and offers Tom his hand. Tom takes it, rises and begins to pop what sounds like every joint in his body. 

“Dude! The fuck?” Chris ask as Tom rolls his shoulders and it sounds like one of them disjoints. Tom immediately freezes and hangs his head.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s gross. I’ll stop.” He says shyly.

Chris sighs because he promised himself he’s going to be nice to Tom. “No, it’s okay. You just napped against a wall, everyone’s joints would pop then.” He says with a shrug. 

They stay in the closet long enough for it to become awkward and Chris really feels like he should do something to stop the almost suffocating awkwardness. 

“So you wanna come over to my place?” He asks and raises his eyebrows.

* * *

Tom had been skittish and fidgety the whole ride on the tube, jumping at loud noises and obsessively checking his phone to see if his mother had gotten his text telling her he was spending the afternoon with a friend. He had told Chris seven times, Chris had kept count, that he couldn’t stay longer than four because he had skating practise at half past five. 

The winds are blowing his long blond hair in Chris’ face as they walk towards his flat and no matter what he tries he just couldn’t get all the hair out of his mouth. It is a short walk but the August winds are strong and have a mind of their own. 

Finally they reached the right building and Chris punches in the access code, making the door click open. They enter and step into the lift, Chris pressing the button for the sixth floor and Tom once again checking his phone. 

A minute later the lift dings and they step out. Chris walks up to number 62 and pulls up his keys from his pocket. The lock takes a bit of wiggling the key back and forth and some violence but eventually the telltale click is heard and the door swings open. Chris walks in, picking up the mail as he does so, and toes off his shoes. 

“Hello?” He calls and smiles when there’s no answer. They’re alone. Awesome. He looks back at Tom who is hovering by the door.

“Come in then.” Chris urges and shrugs out of his jacket. Tom steps in and closes the door, his lip firmly lodged between his teeth the whole time. He removes his jacket, hanging it on one of the overfull hooks, and unties his shoes, placing these in the pile of shoes that has gathered around the door. 

“My room is this way.” Chris walks of into a short corridor on the right and Tom follows. Chris room is the second door to the left, the first door leads to their cleaning closet. His brother Liam lives opposite him. 

When Chris opens his door he realises two things. One, he hasn’t cleaned his room in ages. And two, there’s a box of tissues on his bedside table. The tissues are there because he had a cold last weekend but Tom won’t know that. He’ll think Chris wanks off, which he of course does, he’s a teenager, but he doesn’t want Tom to think he’s some kind of sex-crazed pervert.

“Uuuuuh...This is my room.” Chris says awkwardly. “It’s a bit messy.” He rushes in and begins to pick up the clothes strewn over his floor. 

“A bit.” Tom agrees.

When Chris has gathered up an armful he looks around the room for someplace to put them. The only place is the bed but putting them there means he will have to push them back down when they’re going to play later. With a sigh Chris drops them back down on the floor. 

“Let’s make lunch.” He walks back out and towards the kitchen where he pulls out a package of pasta. Tom lingers by his room a moment before joining him and hesitantly sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“I thought we could make Mac & Cheese. We don’t have any at home but I figured, how hard can it be. Just cook the macaroni and add cheese.” Chris says and fills a saucepan with water. He puts it on the stove and turns on the heat. 

“I can’t have Mac & Cheese.” Tom mumbles, looking down on his feet. Chris whirl around and gives him a confused look. 

“What?” 

“I’m on a diet and Mac & Cheese has too much cheese in it.” Tom explains. “It’s for my skating.”

“Oh.” Chris sucks on his lips as he thinks of something else he can do, looking around the kitchen for inspiration. There’s probably some chicken in the freezer but that’s frozen. There are no leftover from yesterday because Chris ate it all after his hockey. 

“If you have some vegetables I could take that instead of the cheese.” Tom offers. Chris opens the fridge, checking if they actually have any before telling Tom it’s okay. They do.

“Sure thing mate. They’re on the bottom shelf.” He takes out the cheese and reaches for the grater, leaving the door open for Tom. 

“Knives in that drawer.” He jerks his head in the direction of the knives. 

Twenty minutes later lunch is ready. Chris has a big plate of Mac & Cheese, although it’s more like cheese with some pasta in it, and Tom has a very healthy looking plate. One half is filled with pasta and the other with tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, avocado and corn. In his free hand he holds a sandwich, wholemeal bread with ham. 

Chris looks back down on his plate and decides that maybe he should skip the soda today, instead he grabs two glasses and fills them with water. 

They walk back to Chris’ room and sit down on his bed. Chris turns his Tv on and faces Tom.

“So, what do you wanna play?” 

“You can choose.” Tom says with a shrug. He takes a mouthful of pasta, his fingers holding onto the fork a bit too tightly.

He’s still nervous. That much is clear to Chris. It feels as if Tom is afraid Chris will kick him out if he does something wrong. He feels guilt bubble up inside him again. Damn it all to hell. He looks down at the games he has stacked. He’s got CoD, which Tom liked, but it’s not fun on a split screen. His eyes land on a casing with colourful letters at the bottom of the stack of games. Super Mario Brothers for his Wii. 

He picks it up and bites his lip. Either they’re going to end up the worst enemies _ever_ with this game, or they’re going to have the time of their life. Probably the time of their life if they start a new game. Super Mario Brothers it is.

He slides the disk into the reader and picks up two controls. He throws one to Tom and takes one himself, pulling the security strap snug around his wrist as he sits down. As the screen starts up and the Mario logo shows up Tom’s eyebrows rises. 

“Super Mario?” 

“Let’s-a go!” Chris exclaims and starts a new game. 

Tom is clumsy with the controls at first, clearly not used to the Wii, and quiet. But as time passes it really shows that he’s used to playing video games. Ten minutes in Chris accidently kills Tom by jumping too far ahead. He laughs out an apology and waits for Tom’s bubble to come floating back on screen. When freed from his bubble Tom picks up Chris’ Mario, throws him of the edge and finishes the level. 

Chris stares dumbfounded at the screen. What just happend? He turns his head and sees Tom trying to contain his laughter.

“You just killed me dude.” Chris squeals and Tom bursts into laughter. 

“Sorry.” He gasps out between giggles and it’s clear that Tom isn’t in the least bit sorry. Chris feels a giggle of his own bubble out of him and soon he’s laughing just as hard as Tom.

They spend four hours playing, both of them laughing so hard Chris is sure he’s going to have sore abs in the morning, before Tom has to leave for skating practise. Tom is very talkative when he’s past his nervousness, Chris notes, and cheery as fuck. He’s a fun guy really, once you get to know him. He’s got a great sense of humor and he easy to just hang with. 

Chris wishes he had gotten to know Tom earlier, wishes that Tom had more friends because he deserves to. But he also wishes he could keep Tom all to himself, his own little secret, and that makes him feel so guilty. 

He invites Tom to his house again the following Monday after Tom tells him he doesn’t have skating practise. They continue their Super Mario game and Tom stays for dinner. Chris’ dad is grilling that evening, chicken and paprikas filled with cheese. Things go really well. Tom is polite, he is English after all, and moves out of his uncertainly shell within the first few minutes of meeting Chris’ Mum. This, however, isn’t surprising considering Chris’ mother is the most embarrassing person that has ever existed and you practically can’t make a fool out of yourself next to her. At least according to Chris. Tom, on the other hand, tells him that his mother is lovely. Even Liam takes to Tom, and that is something. 

They all have a really good time until Craig, Chris’ dad, asks Tom if he’s new on the hockey team because he hasn’t seen him here before. 

“No I’m a skater.” Tom answers with a laugh, passing Chris the potatoes. 

“What? As in skateboard?” Craig asks and shoves a piece of chicken in his mouth. 

“No, as in figure skating.” Tom tells him and Chris can hear how uncomfortable he feels about telling people this. 

Silence falls over the small company and Chris just knows that this is it. His dad or his brother is going to say something they think is funny and Tom will be hurt. 

Turns out both his dad and his brother is going to be an ass because a moment later they both start laughing their asses off. The smile on Tom’s face disappears and he hangs his head, his eyes fixed on the half finished chicken on his plate.

“What? Are you a girl?” Liam gasps.

“Stop it Liam. That’s not very nice. You too Craig.” Leonie, Chris’ mother, scolds. 

Chris just wants the world to swallow him whole. He’s dad is an ass, his brother is a douche and his mother thinks humiliating someone is ‘ _not very nice_ ’.

Craig nods and stops, with some difficulty, his laughs. He reaches out and places one of his hands on Tom’s shoulder.

“Sorry mate.” He stays serious for a second before cracking up. “But that was just too funny.” 

“Craig.” Leonie fixes her husband with a stern look. 

“Sorry. No hard feelings, right.” Craig pats Tom on the back before going back to eating his food as if nothing has happened.

“Yeah.” Tom says, his voice pitched higher than usual. “This has been really great but I’m afraid I have to go.” He rises, says his goodbyes and walks away before anyone has time to react. 

“Thanks dad.” Chris mutters before getting up and following Tom.

“Tom. I’m sorry. He didn’t mean it. He thinks he’s funny but he’s really just a big idiot.” 

Tom has already got one shoe on and is pulling on the other.

“It’s fine Chris I-I just really need to go. Kenneth... texted. Look. I’ll see you in school tomorrow. O-okay?” Tom stammers. He grabs his bag and jacket and walks out the door. Chris is left staring at the spot where Tom was just a second ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel like there was anything I needed to explain in this chapter but if you find something you don't understand or want explained please tell me :)
> 
> Comments are lovely and see you next Monday <3
> 
> (Ps. It is Monday here but somehow I can't get it to post with today's date, the 28th. just, sigh)


	5. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris decides to man up and apologize for his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies <3 
> 
> Hope you've had a good week. I've had. It's twelve o'clock in the middle of the night here, the light bulb of my night light just poped and I'm tired, therefore this note won't be very good.
> 
> I think you know how this works by now because you're all clever :D 
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy :3 <3

**Hey. I’m bored, wanna hang out?**

Chris hits the send button and collapses back down on his bed, waiting for Tom’s answer. He rolls over three times before his phone honks. Quickly reaching over for the phone, Chris opens the text.

**I can’t. I have homework to catch up on.**

**/Tom**

Chris sighs. Tom is still hurt. 

Tom had been quiet all week, once again acting twitchy and nervous around Chris. He hadn’t had time to apologized properly for his dad’s behaviour because he couldn’t get a moment alone with Tom. He had wanted to meet Tom today so he could fix things but it seems like Tom doesn’t want to meet him.

 **What r u studying?**

He texts back, hoping that he will at least get the chance to apologize over text even though it isn’t the way he had prefered.

**Math. I’m failing the course :-(**

**/Tom**

Chris eyes widens. This is the best opportunity ever! He just simply can’t miss this.

**If u want i can help u. I read adv. math**

This probably is his only chance to show Tom that he is genuinely sorry and that he wants to be his friend for real. But as more and more time passes without any text from Tom Chris’ hope sinks. 

He’s just given up and buried his head under his pillow when he hears the honk signalling he’s got a new text. In his eagerness to get to the phone Chris falls out of bed but that doesn’t matter because when he opens the text he finds Tom’s address. 

**Be there in 30 :D**

He texts back and jumps out of bed. 

The ride to Tom’s house takes 36 minutes. He stands outside number 14 of a long row of brick townhouses. The place has iron gates and a small front garden with some flowers Chris doesn’t know the name for. Not that he knows any flower names. There is a small brick road leading to the black, shiny door. 

Taking a deep breath, he walks up and knocks on the door. A short, smiling woman opens the door. 

“Hello ma’am. I’m here to see Tom” Chris says.

“Oh, you must be Chris. Such a pleasure to finally meet you.” She opens the door further and steps aside. Chris takes this as his sign to step inside and does just that. 

“I’m Diana, Tom’s mother. Tom’s in his room, just up the stairs and then the first door on the left.” She says and points towards a staircase behind her. “Now if you excuse me I have a pie in the oven.” She gives him a hug before walking away, leaving Chris in a state of shocked amazement. 

It takes Chris almost a full minute to recover. 

Tom’s house is...English. Yup, English. That’s the way Chris would describe it. It’s cozy but stylishly decorated with loads of wooden furniture with soft cushions. The walls are covered in what appears to be bright one-coloured tapestry but when Chris gets closer he sees there are small patterns on them. 

He walks towards the staircase, one arch on each side of him. The one to the right leads to a sitting area with a whole wall covered in bookcases, the one on the left leads to a kitchen with baby blue walls. The stairs are curved to the right and lined with photos of what Chris assumes are the Hiddleston children. 

They start with a photo of a baby girl in pink dress and then the same girl a year later, in yellow dress this time. On the next photo Tom appears up for the first time. As a newborn he already has wild curly hair, so light it’s almost white. On the photo after that the now four year old older sister is holding a newborn baby girl in her arm and Tom is sitting next to them, his tiny baby fist in his mouth.

As Chris progress up the stairs the photos of Tom and his sisters grows closer and closer to present time. It’s quite an interesting climb and Chris learns that Tom 3 years old wears his hair gathered in a puffy updo on the very top of his head, Tom 6 years old misses both of his front teeth, Tom 8 years old has glasses, Tom 13 years old has rebelled against the curls and has a very short buzz cut, the next year the curls are back, and Tom 17 years old looks like the Tom Chris has gotten to know, which confuses him because he thought Tom was 18. Maybe they just haven’t taken this years photo yet. 

When he reaches the top of the stairs he finds himself in a small hallway, the arch to his right leading to the living room and the door to his left leading, presumably, to Tom’s room. Chris knocks lightly on the door, opens and steps in.

Tom is hunched over in his seat, his forehead resting in the book on his desk.

“Go away Mum, you’re not helping me.” He whines.

“Sup mate.” 

Tom straightens his back so quickly Chris is afraid he might have hurt himself, and turns around. His eyes widen as he sees who it is and his hands then reach for his phone, where he checks something.

“Hello Chris. I hadn’t seen your text.” He says sheepishly after a moment.

“Okay. Well I’m here now mate so...where’s your problem.” Chris clasps his hands together and looks around. Tom’s room is big, bright and spacious. The walls are white and there are posters of different skaters hanging by his bed. The big bed stands by the wall in Chris’ left hand side, next to it is a reading corner with two bookshelves. There are photos, a pair of old skates, dvds, trophies and boxes with other stuff in one of the shelves. The other is filled to the brim with books. 

On his right hand side there’s a big wardrobe with sliding doors, one of them doubling as a mirror. Tom is sitting by a writing desk on the opposite side of the room in front of a large window. Tom’s room is as clean as Chris’ is messy.

“I’m failing math and I don’t understand anything.” Tom tells him. 

Chris walks over to him, sits down on a stool Tom had pulled out from under his desk and looks down at Tom’s math problems. It’s equations of the simplest kind in Chris’ eyes but when he looks at Tom’s calculations he can see that Tom does really not agree with him on that. 

“Uhh... well.” Chris stammers.

“I’m useless.” Tom states, his eyes staring intently on the equations. 

“Hey...Cheer up mate. We’ll get through this. Let’s just start from the beginning.” Chris says and scoots closer.

They spend an hour and a half calculating ten problems. Tom really is bad at math but Chris doesn’t tell him that, afraid that Tom's low self esteem wouldn't be able to handle it. It's amazing how he can be so sure of himself on the ice and then just as insecure outside it.

It takes almost twenty minutes for Chris to explain basic equation solving and it still takes Tom several minutes to solve each problem. When they come to the problems where Tom both needs to draw up the equation and solve it Chris draws pictures to help Tom visualise the problems. Tom spend almost as long time laughing at Chris’ poor drawing skills as he does trying to understand the Australian. Chris doesn’t mind this. 

At a quarter to two Tom’s Mum calls his name and Tom walks downstairs, leaving Chris with a promise that he’ll be back soon. 

Chris decides to explore Tom’s room more thoroughly while he waits for Tom to return. He begins by looking in the bookshelf filled with stuff. The trophies are from skating competitions all over Britain and some are even from abroad. With a smile Chris locates the one Tom won in Germany last month. 

He then looks at the photos. They are of Tom and what he thinks are different skaters. He recognises one as a russian named Eugene Plushenko or something like that on one of the photos[1]. Tom is standing next to the russian with the terrible haircut and is practically beaming with joy. 

He moves on to the next shelf and browses the titles. He finds the whole Harry potter series, a ton of books written by J.R.R.Tolkien and a whole shelf is dedicated to Shakespeare. Chris bites his lips when he sees that one of the otherwise carefully cared for Shakespeare books has a torn cover, which Tom has taped together, and is water damaged. He remembers that day. Some of the guys on the football team had taken Tom’s book, torn it in two before his eyes and then hurtled the pieces out in the rain. Tom had cried.

He shakes the memory away and moves on to Tom’s wardrobe. He notices a changing screen in the corner of the room which had been hidden by the door when Chris walked in. He tells himself that he shouldn’t look behind there because it’s obviously private but then remember that he was just about to look through Tom’s wardrobe and those are often much more private than changing screens.

He walks around the screen clad in a black fabric with thin white stripes and finds two mannequins wearing quite weird clothes. One of them has a big, white, fluffy shirt tucked into a pair of parched brown pants and a pair of tartan braces on top of that[2]. The other one wears a full bodysuit in a mat black fabric. The suit looks cracked in some places and in the cracks a fabric shifting in yellow, orange and red are sewn in. Glitter in the same colours is strewn over the suit in ways that makes the whole suit look like it’s a piece of burning coal about to burst into flames[3]. 

Chris stares at the creations in awe. He might not know much about crafting, or anything at all for that matter, but these are so well done even he is impressed. He wants to reach out and touch them but doesn’t dare to. Instead he walks around them, observing them from all angles. 

As Chris does so he notices the wall next to the door, which is filled with photos of Tom in different costumes at different ages. Chris is extremely confused for a second, because why would Tom dress up like this, before realising that this is Tom’s skating costumes through the years. 

They go from being a simple spider man costume on a four year old Tom wearing a helmet which is making his head look ridiculously large to two pictures of Tom, looking a bit younger than he is now, wearing a midnight blue suit in one and a pair of black pants with a glittery silver shirt in the other[4]. 

“Chris?” Tom suddenly calls out and Chris sticks his head out from behind the screen. Tom has put down a tray of something on his writing desk and is looking nervously around the room. 

“Here mate.” Chris waves at Tom. “Are these your skating costumes?” He asks.

“Y-yeah.” Tom walks up to Chris and folds away the screen for more room. He seems torn between wanting to push Chris away from there and wanting to show them off. 

“They’re really cool.” Chris tells him. “Especially this one.” He points at a picture of Tom, looking very dorky, in just a pair of white harem pants and gold decorations on his arms. Tom forces out a giggle at this and Chris decides to talk about the costumes that actually are cool.

“No but seriously. They are really cool. Tell me about them.” He says and gestures towards the mannequins. Tom runs a hand through his hair and shifts his feet, his eyes darting between the tray on his desk and his feet. 

“Well, they’re my skating costumes.” He explains. “That one’s for my short program,” He points at the one with the white shirt and braces. “And that’s for my free skating.” He points at the other one. 

“Your free skating? That’s the one I saw when I followed you to the rink, right?” Chris ask, his eyes still on the fantastic piece of crafting. “The one where you:” He imitates one of the moves Tom did, lifting his arms up over his head in a dramatic way. Although, now that he stands here with his arms in the air he’s sure he looks more like an orangutan than anything else. 

Tom seems to agree because he lets out a little laugh and tells him:

“You look like an idiot but yeah, that’s the one.” 

“I was going for dragon but...” Chris shrugs.

“You can tell I’m supposed to be a dragon?” Tom asks, surprise in his voice. 

“Yeah! You’re really supposed to be a dragon? That’s awesome.” Chris turns to Tom and sees that he’s blushing ever so slightly.

“Well, I’m supposed to be a wizard who turns into a dragon and brings destruction because he thinks he wants power but in the end he just wants people to respect him, that’s what the slower bits in the music are for.” Tom runs his hand through his hair again. “I sometimes feel bad for him because I think that no one has ever given him a chance to show them who he really is.”

“He’s quite lonely I guess.” Chris says, looking back at the suit.

“Yes. I guess he would feel loads better if he had a friend.” Tom says and Chris is quite sure they’re not talking about the wizard anymore. 

“I’m sure he finds one where he least expects.” Chris looks up and lock eyes with Tom. The blue orbs are filled with so much emotion it actually hurts Chris’ heart.

“But hey, what’s on the tray.” Chris breaks eye contact and walks over to the tray on Tom’s desk. There are two plates of pie, one with ice-cream and the other without, and two spoon on the tray. 

“Oh, it’s just Mum. She made pie and thought we’d like to have some.” He says. “Yours is the one with the ice cream.” 

“Your diet again?” Chris asks and takes the plate with both ice cream and pie, giving the other to Tom. 

“No, I just don’t like ice cream.” Tom says and sits down on the bed. Chris sits down next to him and puts a spoonful in his mouth. He might have moaned because Tom gigglesnorts but god damnit. This pie is _delicious_. 

“Your Mum is amazing. This is the best pie I’ve ever tasted.” He says and shoves another spoonful in his mouth. 

“I’ll tell her that.” Tom says and munches at his own pie. 

“Isn’t it hard to have a diet?” Chris asks after a minute of silent pie eating. 

“No, not really. It isn’t the strictest of diets. I just have to make sure I eat a lot of carbs and don’t eat too much fat or sugar. It’s worth it though.” Tom shrugs and shifts a bit further up on his bed. 

“But how do you do when you’re at school or when you eat at friends. It can’t be easy to have to say no all the time when people have made food for you.” Chris inquires.

“Well I don’t really have that problem.” Tom mutters and pokes at the pie he has left. 

“Sorry mate.” Chris feels like an idiot. Tom doesn’t have friends and Chris knows that perfectly well. “But how about school, how do you do there?” Chris hopes the change of subject will stop Tom from looking like a kicked puppy. “I never see you in the canteen. Do you like, eat food you brought yourself or something?” 

“No I...I sit in the teachers’ lounge.” Tom says. “They offered me a place after that thing with the soup.” He pushes the remaining pie around on the plate, seemingly having lost his appetite. 

Chris swallows the pie he has in his mouth with some difficulty. Well done Chris, hadn’t he had that talk about thinking before speaking enough times? He bites his lip and decides to swallow his dignity. Chris has been an ass and he owes Tom a proper apology.

“Look Tom. I want to apologize. I’ve been really mean to you for years and never thought about why I was treating you like shit or how you felt. I just followed what everyone else did and never questioned whether or not you deserved it. I wish I had gotten to know you back then, because when I did get to know you I discovered that you’re actually a really nice guy. You’re funny and smart and interesting and I never gave you the chance to show me that. I just fucked you over. I’m so sorry because you deserve so much better. You’re not only the most genuine person I know you’re also the worlds greatest figure skater-”

“No I’m not.” Tom mumbles.

“Okay maybe not yet but you will be, anyway. You’re amazing and I’m a douche for letting other people tell me a load of crap about you and then believing it without questioning. I’m really sorry Tom and I hope you can forgive me.” Chris bites his lip but doesn’t dare to look over to where Tom is sitting next to him, afraid of what Tom might answer. 

“You’re not that bad. You never really did anything towards me, you just didn’t stop other people from doing things.” 

“I pushed you into the mud when we were thirteen.” 

“The way I remember it is that I was pushed towards you and just kind of bounced down in the mud. I never looked like you wanted to push me.” Tom says and Chris looks up. Tom is smiling slightly, which Chris finds weird considering what Chris has just said. 

“What I want to say Chris is that: apology accepted.” Tom smiles and Chris smiles with him, relief filling his chest.

“You wanna play Mario kart?” Tom asks.

“Sure thing mate.” 

They spend the rest of the afternoon playing Mario kart, laughing and elbowing each other. Emma, Tom’s younger sister, join them after an hour and Chris must endure a whole thirty minutes of her being suspicious of him before he gains the seal of approval. They even convince Tom’s mother to join them for a race and she loses horribly but laughs wholeheartedly through the race anyway.

By five Chris’ mother phones and tells him he needs to be home in time for dinner. They stop playing, Emma starting up legend of Zelda instead, and Tom follows Chris to the door. They talk and joke all the way and Chris gets a warm bubbly feeling in his stomach every time he looks at Tom although he can’t figure out why. As Tom does a Bowser imitation a thought hits Chris.

“Hey, when you do your dragon skating, do you have that costume with your blond hair because, no offence, that kinda takes down the coolness factor quite a lot.” Chris says.

“No I spray my hair black and slick it back. It gets greyish after when I wash it out but it’s worth it.” Tom says and pulls at one of his curls. 

“Was that why you had weird hair this Monday? You had a competition last weekend?”

“Yeah”

“So how did it go?” Chris asks as he bends down to tie his converse.

Tom rocks from side to side for a moment before deciding on an answer.

“It went okay.” He says.

“Okay? You won sweetheart.” Diana calls from the kitchen. 

“Yes well but I fell on my axel, got an edge on my lutz, did a step out on my loop - toe loop and the last spin was horribly uncentered.” He calls back. Chris feels like Tom just spoke Chinese. 

“I think you did amazing.” Diana says and joins them by the door.

“You always think I do amazing.” Tom mutters. 

“I’d like to see you compete sometime.” Chris tells Tom as he stands up and pulls on his coat. 

“There’s the Oxford trophy next weekend, you could come and watch if you’d like. I’ll drive you so don’t worry about how to get there.” Diana says.

“Mum.” Tom tries to interject.

“Okay. Could be fun. I’ll come if it’s okay with Tom.” Chris looks over at Tom who takes a deep breath and nods.

“Lovely. It’s both Saturday and Sunday but we’ll sleep at home because it’s only an hour car ride. You can come both days if you want or just one. Tom will text you about details, won’t you.” Diana looks up to her son and fusses about his shirt.

“Mum, Mum Stop!” Tom pushes Diana’s hands away and turns to Chris. “I’ll text you.”

They say their goodbyes and it’s not until Chris is halfway home that he realises that he just agreed to spend an entire weekend in a different city with Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] **[Evgeni Plushenko](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yKT1oqGc8-4/Tv1JS8o6-TI/AAAAAAAAUuY/esCviMYDoAM/s700/Plushenko_mullet.jpg) ** Amazing skater, not so amazing fashion role model. 
> 
> [2] This costume was inspired by both the male's costume in [this picture](http://www4.pictures.gi.zimbio.com/ISU+NHK+Trophy+Figure+Skating+Day+2+9gmCMQ-f7JPl.jpg) and in [this picture](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/d0/Kristoffer_BERNTSSON_European_Championships_2009.jpg/220px-Kristoffer_BERNTSSON_European_Championships_2009.jpg)
> 
> [3] This costume was inspired by the ones that is described in catching fire when Peeta and Katniss ride on the chariot rides at the opening of the 75th hunger games (if you haven't read the books, sorry but I can't find an extract and please please do read them. They are brilliant)
> 
> [4][ The midnight blue suit inspiration](http://blog.timesunion.com/amanda/files/2010/02/Evan_Lysacek_Podium_2009_Worlds.jpg) and[ The glitter shirt inspiration](http://dansportalen.se/images/18.cd1771b11927f1f0c680006514/ice08berntsson.jpg) which just so happens to belong to one of my favorite routines which is why I'm putting [this link here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpbEeiY-MJk) so you can see it
> 
> Thanks for reading and I will see you in a week :D
> 
> Comments are lovely <3


	6. Short Programs and unexpected hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris follows Tom to a competition in Oxford and gets a look into the world of figure skating and, likewise, the world of Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dearies. 
> 
> Here we are again:) This chapter was originally written as a part of a bigger chapter but as I wrote I noticed how everything seemed to just run away from me and I ended up with a 7500 word chapter. So I have decided to split it in two parts, but fear not! you will get both parts this week. I will update this story on Thursday as well with the second part of this chapter. 
> 
> I haven't told you but this story begins in August last year (2012) and right now it's September in the story. Sorry for not telling you earlier :(
> 
> Once again explanations are to be found in the end notes. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter <3

The underground train jerks to the right and Chris is pressed into the stranger next to him. He mutters a quiet apology before shifting a little, trying and failing to get some sort of personal bubble around himself.

He’s stuck in the morning rush, but instead of men and women in suits slowly squeezing him to death he’s crammed up between tourist and early morning shoppers. He wasn’t even aware there was a morning rush on Saturdays but turns out there is. He takes a deep breath and starts up a mantra.

Only three stations left

Only three stations left

Only three stations left

Ding! The doors slide open. Hold hard onto your bag as people rush outside. Please mind the gap. more people pushing their way inside. Doors closing.

Only two stations left

Only two stations left

Only two stations left

Ding! Doors open. Hold onto bag. People out. Mind gap. People in. Doors closing.

Only one station left

Only one station left

Only one station left

Ding! Open. Bag. Out. Gap. In. Close.

Only to the next station

Only to the next station

Only to the next station

When the bell dings Chris throws courtesy out the window and elbows his way to the surface. As the first rays of sunshine hit’s Chris’ face he feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest and he can breathe again. He turns left, takes the short cut through the park and walks down the street leading to Tom’s house. 

He can see them the moment he turns out of the park. There’s a car parked outside of number 14 and he can see Diana rush in and out of the house, carrying one small bag each time. When he’s ten meters from the car Tom walks out, a garment bag thrown over one shoulder and his skating bag hanging on the other. 

“Hello!” Chris calls, waving a hand at Tom. Tom looks up and flashes him a bright smile, waving with his free hand. 

Tom loads his bags in the trunk and then runs down to meet Chris. It looks like he’s going in for the hug but changes his mind in the last second and stops awkwardly close to Chris. 

“Hey.” He says and Chris takes a step back to get Tom out of his personal bubble.Tom’s smile becomes a bit forced. Chris compensates for the rejection by giving him a pat on the arm and asking.

“So you’re ready to kick some ass?”

Tom laughs.

“Yeah. I guess.” He says before looking back at the car. “Umm, we’re there but you’ve probably noticed.” He flashes Chris a smile and they walk back to the car. 

“Hello Chris.” Diana greets and she does hug him, hard and motherly.

“Hello ma’am.” Chris breathes when he’s released. 

“Oh please, call me Diana.” She smiles. “Okay, so everyone’s here and ready to go? Tom, sweetheart, you got everything?” 

“Yes Mum.” Tom calls back and Diana nods her head once. 

“James love!” She calls. “We’re leaving now!” 

A minute later a man walks out and down the stairs. He gives Diana a quick peck on the lips before walking down the stairs and up to Tom. 

He’s taller than Tom but otherwise they’re almost identical. The same high cheekbones, the same blond curly hair, the same beautiful blue eyes, the same...Wait what? Beautiful? Had he just thought Tom’s eyes were beautiful. Dude! Tom’s a guy. He can’t think Tom’s eyes are beautiful. Ugh! 

Tom embraces the man, who Chris is quite sure is his Dad, and his father whispers something in his ear that makes Tom’s absolutely not beautiful eyes widen. Tom looks draws back and looks questioningly at him. Tom’s dad nods once and says:

“Good luck Tom. I believe in you.” 

Tom lets go and the man walks over to Chris.

“James, Tom’s father.” He introduces himself as.

“Chris, Tom’s friend.” Chris shoots back. James laughs, the same laugh as Tom, and claps him on the shoulder.

“Nice to finally meet you.” James gives Chris shoulder a squeeze and Chris feels like there has been a silence threat made. Why is everyone in this family so suspicious of him? He doesn’t like it. He just wants to hang with Tom as a friend and these people act like he’s going to beat Tom up the moment they turn their back on him. 

“Let’s go then.” Diana says and gets in the car. Both Tom and Chris gets in the backseat and then they’re driving away. 

“So how does these things work?” Chris asks after ten minutes of crappy radio music.

“Kenneth is already there with Emma and Scarlett, the other skaters, so we’ll meet him there. Then I’ll get ready and you’ll have coffee with Mum on the grandstand while watching the other skaters. There’s not really much to it.” Tom says apologetically. His phone chimenes and he pulls it up to read the message. 

“Tom, you make it sound like it’s no fun at all. You’ll see, there will be a lot to do and the skaters here are quite good so you can always watch them Chris.” Diana says from the front seat. Chris nods and shifts in his seat. His leg hits a black bag placed on the floor between him and Tom. 

Tom reaches down, picks up the bag and fingers with the handle.

“Is it okay if I tape my feet?” Tom asks and Chris nods. 

“Just go for it.” Chris says. 

Tom shift until he’s sitting cross legged in his seat and begins, with some hesitation, to remove his shoes. His socks soon follows suit and then Tom unloads the content of the bag on the seat between them. 

Tapes and padding of various kinds falls out accompanied by a small pair of scissors. Chris watches as Tom picks up a piece of padding, cuts it into shape and places it on the inside of his left ankle. He then takes the sports tape and begins to fasten it by wrapping the tape several times around his foot.

“Why do you do that?” Chris inquires.

“What?” 

“The whole...tape thing?” Chris gestures vaguely towards the tape and padding. 

“Because my feet hurts otherwise.” Tom explains, carefully cuts of the tape and fastens it. 

“Just tie your skates looser then mate.”

The look Tom gives him makes Chris wonder if he accidentally said: _cut your feet off then mate_ instead of what he really said. 

“I can’t just tie them looser.” He says, scandalized, and picks up another tape. 

“Why?” Chris asks and Tom launches into how ice skates work and why it’s important that they’re tied correctly. Tom waves his hands around as he speaks, his face shining. Chris finds that he can’t look away when Tom is like this, glowing with the joy of sharing the things he love. He comes alive in a way Chris hasn’t really seen with anyone do. 

Chris takes this opportunity to asks about everything he’s ever wanted to know about ice skates, which wasn’t anything at all until the moment Tom started talking about them. He gets to know that there are different blades for skaters on different levels and after a while Tom even pulls out his skating bag from the trunk and shows Chris his skates. 

Before Chris knows it they’re in Oxford and it’s time to leave the car.

 

It turns out that waiting for Tom to compete isn’t that bad. The skaters are good, not as good at Tom and not even close to as expressive but still good, and there are girls in short skirts to look at everywhere, which is nice...you know. 

Tom sits with them until there is about ninety minutes until he’s supposed to be out on the ice. Him and Chris spends that time huddled up in a blanket. Tom tries to teach him the different elements and how difficult they are but Chris just makes up his own name for things, throwing them both into giggle fits. Their favourite is Chris’ renaming of the fan spiral to the dramatically urinating dog[1]. 

As Tom rests his head on Chris’ shoulder Chris is torn between pushing Tom away, because this is too much personal contact between him and another person of the same sex, and pulling Tom closer to himself and snuggle up. He decides to do something in between and sits completely still. 

Kenneth shows up a few minutes later and tells Tom it’s time to start his warmups. As Tom walks away to get ready Kenneth takes the seat next to him. Chris shifts to the left, putting space between him and Tom’s coach. 

“We need to talk.” Kenneth says. Chris, knowing that this sentence never leads to anything good, feels the blood freeze in his veins. He nods.

“I know who you are Christopher.” He begins and Chris feels like he’s three years old, about to get a scolding. “You’re one of the hockey guys who’s made Thomas’s life a living hell for over ten years. Thomas is a great guy and you guys have made him cry so many times I’ve lost count, and I’ve only known Thomas for two and a half years. I’m not going to lie to you. I thought that you guys had ruined all his chances of getting a friend. But then one day Tom tells me he’s got one, a friend who’s a hockey guy, and he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.” Kenneth turns around to face him.

“Now. If this turns out to be some bet or anything like that, then you’re going to be regretting that you were born. Tom is going to nationals in less than two months and he’s going to win and this will not be possible if you are going to throw this friendship in his face. So I for all of our sakes I would suggest you don’t. Have I made myself clear?” Kenneth’s voice never once changes tone and this is what Chris finds most terrifying about the speech. 

“One hundred percent.” Chris tells him. 

“Good.” Kennet pats him on the shoulder and walks away. Chris wraps the blanket closer around himself, trying to trap the little warmth he has left. 

Chris spends the next ninety minutes trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling Kenneth’s talk left him with. He just wanted Tom to stop looking like he wants to run away every time someone from his school so much as looked at him and now he feels like a fly trapped in the spiders web. He has these weird feelings for Tom which he doesn’t like but he can’t do anything to put some space between them because then he’s going to get his ass kicked by Kenneth.

He gets up and sits down next to Diana when Tom’s age group starts, because even though she isn’t Chris’ mother she is a mother and mothers have a soothing aura around them. He thinks Diana notices that something is amiss because she begins fussing over him and offering him hot chocolate and sandwiches. It works and Chris relaxes. 

Tom is in the second war up group. They’re eight contestants, four in each warm up group. Diana tells him that they have a six minute long warm up before it’s time for the first skater to skate. They’re skating the short program today and the free skating tomorrow and the winner is the one who’s got the most points in total. She also tells him that Tom should win this if he doesn’t mess up completely. 

Chris feels slightly horrified by the short warm up time. He’s got twenty to thirty minutes warm up on the ice before each match, Tom has six. That’s no time whatsoever. As Chris watches the warm up he notices that it is indeed no fun and games, this is deadly serious. The skaters are all over the ice. Jumping, spinning and doing steps. They’re good these skater, he can see that, but they’re not even close to Tom. There is only one guy who jumps what Chris thinks are triples.

Tom had told him about triples being three turns in the air. dubles being two and singles being one, logically, but Chris had only been able to differ between singles and not singles. Tom could immediately see how many turns someone did and he could even differ between a 2 and three quarters turn and three turns. 

Right now he has to ask Diana whether or not the tall guy with the cheekbones are jumping triples. Diana tells him that Benedict, the guys name, jumps triple toe loop and triple salchow. The two easiest jumps according to Tom. She also tells him that Tom and Benedict were rivals when they were younger but Benedict fell behind when they became teenagers and now they often see each other at camps and competitions. 

The first skater is James Chan. And asian dude who’s sixteen years old. He’s quite good Chris would say. He doesn’t fall over but other than that Chris can’t really judge whether the things he’s doing are difficult or not. He receives 37.89 points. Diana nods and Chris is confused. 

The next two skaters, one seventeen years old and the other eighteen years old, also receives points around 35. One of them falls in a jump and later when they show the replay on the jumbotron Diana points out to him that the triple toe loop he tried to do was far from fully rotated and he tried to land facing forwards, which, apparently, is close to undoable. 

Benedict is the last skater in the warm up group and when he steps out on the ice the audience wakes up a bit, cheering and clapping with more intensity. Benedict skates to music from the Sherlock Holmes movie, which Chris finds oddly fitting. He’s good and manages to land all of his three jumps and his spins look good. He receives 43.17 points and naturally ends up in first place. 

The next warm up group step out on the ice and the speaker tells the audience the skaters name and which club they’re representing. When the speaker calls Tom’s name the audience cheer the loudest. Diana must have seen his surprised look because she explains to Chris that Tom came fourth at last years nationals, which meant that he participated in the small gala they had when the competition was over and, because he’s so expressive, Tom’s routine received quite the attention which made him a name in the English skating world. 

When the last skater is called, Matthew Rochester from Bristol, Diana groans and tells Chris that Matthew has the worst attitude and often picks on the other skaters for either ending up behind him or in front of him. Basically on everyone but they can’t stop him from competing. Chris doesn’t like this guy.

Six minutes later all skater except for a guy in flamenco costume steps off the ice. He skates poorly and falls in two of his three jumps. The guy ends up in last place with 31.74 points. 

Next out on the ice is Tom. He skates a few laps around the ice while the guy before him waits for his points, looking like he’s not aware of his surroundings at all. As the speaker presents the score Tom talks with Kenneth, who hugs Tom tightly and fixes his braces.

“Next skater is Thomas Hiddleston, seventeen years old representing London artistic skating club. Welcome out on the ice Thomas.” The speaker says and there is one last exchange of words between Kenneth and Tom before he skates off to the cheers of the audience. 

“Is Tom only seventeen?” Chris asks but Diana, who went quiet the moment Tom stepped out on the ice, only gives him a minute nod in answer. Chris was quite sure Tom was eighteen. He looks eighteen. 

Tom places himself in the middle, takes a deep breath and grabs hold of his braces. The music starts and Tom waltz away. When he lands the first jump the audience cheers and Chris cheers with them. It’s even more amazing to see Tom when he’s in costume and he’s got a real audience. He has such presence on the ice it’s practically impossible to look away and he seems to skate not for himself but for the people watching him, like winning this is just a side note and the real pleasure is to give the audience a good time. 

When he does his second jump the landing is more than a bit shaky, he flails his arms around and does a whole turn on the ice before he regains control and can continue with the routine. The audience doesn’t seem to care though because they cheer just as much as when Tom nailed the last jump. Chris comes to the conclusion that what Tom just did must have been difficult as hell. [2]

He falls over in his jump combination but otherwise Tom’s routine looked good. He really hopes that Tom can beat that Benedict guy but since Tom fell over he’s not sure. Two minutes later he feels more than a little stupid for thinking that Tom were threatened by Benedict:

“The scores please. Thomas has received a technical score of 34.42 and a program component score of 33.01 which results in a total of 66.43. Thomas is currently in first place.” The speaker calls out.

“Well that’s alright.” Diana breathes next to him.

“Alright? That’s really really high!” Chris says shocked. “And they miscalculated, he should have 67.43.” 

“Sweety, Tom fell over once. That’s a deduction of 1 points. And he probably got at least -1 in G.O.E on his axel and the last spin was quite slow. I think the points are quite fair.” Diana tells him and gives him a sideways hug. 

“What’s Geoh-ee?”

“G.O.E is grade of execution, Every judge puts in a number from -3 to +3 based on how well they thought the thing they’re judging was done. The average is then added to the base value of the element they judged.” Diana explains. [3]

“What’s the highest points he’s got?” Chris asks, interested in what Tom gets when he skates perfectly if this is what he gets when he skates alright. 

“205.94”

“205.94! And he got 66 and a half today? What the fuck does he do when he gets those points?” 

Diana laughs.

“No no no. His personal best is 205.94 in total. His personal best for his short program is 71.06 and his personal best for free skating is...140.20 I think.” She tells him with a small smile. Chris nods and the next skaters music starts. He looks up and sees the guy in lilac jumpsuit fall over. 

Tom joins them just in time to see Matthew skate out on the ice and get in position to start his routine. He’s carrying his skates in his hands and his costume still on. When he sits down Chris notices that Tom’s panting hard and his face is sweaty but there is a smile on his face.

“You kicked some serious butt back there.” Chris tells Tom, who blushes. 

“Thanks.” He answers breathlessly. Diana attacks Tom with a hug, squeezing the little amount of air he’s got in his lungs back out. 

“You did amazing sweetheart.” She coos and Tom nods, too out of breath to speak. His eyes are tracking Matthew out on the ice and his face shows small amounts of displeasure. Diana fusses over him, making him drink some water and correcting his costume even though Tom won’t be getting out on the ice again today. 

Matthew ends his routine with an over the top flourish of his hands, looking pleased with himself. It's clear he wants the same artistery as Tom but doesn't quite manage it.Tom groans. 

“He’s so full of it.” He sighs and takes the piece of banana Diana hands him. 

“He looks like he’s got a stick up his arse.” Diana agrees and Chris manages to choke on thin air. Tom just nods and takes another piece of banana. Matthew bows and skates off the ice and goes to what Tom has told him is the kiss and cry area. It’s called so because you either kiss your trainer because your scores are so high or you cry because they are so low. So far Chris hasn’t seen any of those things. They should rename it to the hug and look slightly disappointed in a polite way area. 

As the judge gives Matthew 58.63 Tom actually swears. 

“He did _not_ skate that well.” He adds with an angry huff. 

“No he most certainly didn’t.” Diana agrees and hands Tom the last piece of the banana. “But don’t dwell on that sweetheart. Go and get ready and then we’ll go home.” She gives Tom a small pat on the back as he stands up and walks away with a promise to return soon. 

Tom is done forty minutes later and they make their way out of the skating rink. As they walk several people stop them to talk to Tom, wishing him good luck tomorrow and commenting on his routine. Chris feels a bit forgotten and quite lost as they talk about camels, Salchows and other things Chris don’t know about. [4]

He spends the conversations looking at Tom instead. He looks confident and doesn’t have any problem at all with talking to strangers. (Not friends, this in not how friends talk to each other.) This is Tom’s world Chris realises as Tom laughs at some joke. This is where Tom feels at home and where _he_ knows how to act and what to say. School, and the rink for that matter, at home is a part of Chris’ world where Tom has tried and failed to get a place in. But here is where he really belongs.

Something stirs inside Chris chest, something like longing, and Chris guesses he wants to go home. Because that’s the only possible explanation. That he would somehow long to be a part of Tom’s worlds is just silly. 

The ride home is quick, Chris and Tom talking and joking with each other the whole way home. As they say goodbye Chris hugs Tom without knowing what he’s doing. He just...does it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] [The fan spiral](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kx075o3iEp1qajwlgo1_500.jpg)
> 
> [2] [Triple Axel](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzFGzsn6Skg) Axel is considered the hardest jump because you have to do  1.5 turns for a single, 2.5 turns for a double and 3.5 turns for a triple. In comparison: In a triple Salchow you only need to do slightly over 2.5 turns for the jump to be accepted as fully rotated. 
> 
> [3] Okay, time for some basic figure skating scoring system. Each jump/spin/step- or spiral sequence have a basic value. Depending on how hard the element is how you do it the element is given a level from 1 to 4. Example: A simple sit spin is level 1, if you do more than eight rotations you have reached level 2.
> 
> To each element G.O.E (Grade Of Execution) is added. This rages from -3 to +3 where 0 is good. If you do a step out on a jump or support your landing with a hand your given -1, if you support yourself with two hands or stumble a lot your given -2, if you fall your given -3. 
> 
> The judges also judge program components based on how you interpret the music, your overall skating skill, your transitions and linking foot work, your performance and your choreography on a scale from 1-10 (the best skaters reach an 8 so reviving a 10 is practically impossible).
> 
> All this is done by nine judges where some have certain extra parts and when the score is decided seven of these nine judges are randomly selected and the highest and lowest points among the seven judges' points are removed, leaving five. The G.O.E average among these is added to the base value and the average among program components and voila, you have your score. Easy as pie (or not) 
> 
>  
> 
> You can also get deductions for different things. Passing the time limit when skating or a quick fall on your but earns you a -1 deduction. If you fall and stay down on the ice for a longer extent of time you can get a -2 deduction. This means that not only does a fall give you -3 in G.O.E, it also gives you and additional -1 in deduction, meaning that you lose 4 points on each fall. This is a lot considering the [triple toe loop](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJhAJHHbWJ8) is worth (you guessed it) 4 points.
> 
>  
> 
> There are also a lot of multiplications and stuff like that which I still haven't fully understood which means that not all of what I've told you is true but yeah... lets forget about that.
> 
> [4] A [camel spin](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clSmgMKk9Cs) and a [Salchow](http://youtu.be/H_KZeYwD2dU?t=1m24s) (and you'll notice the salchow dude does not do a single when it says so but a double.)
> 
> See you on Thursday my dearies and if there is anything you wonder about just ask away.
> 
> Comments are lovely <3


	7. Free skating and broken nails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second day of Tom's competition turns out to be an unexpected day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dearies.
> 
> So it's Valentines day today and just because of that I'll bring you some hand holding, another hug and blood! No but seriously, there will be small amounts of blood mentioned in this shapter, just so you're warned ;)
> 
> Explanations can be found in the end notes.
> 
> Enjoy :3

The next morning when they meet again Chris decides to hug Tom again, because a hug doesn’t turn you gay. Gay hugging does. So Chris bangs Tom five times on the back in his I’m-not-really-touching-you-so-this-isn’t-gay-hug before sniffing and saying:

“Yeah.”

Tom gives him with a confused look and an uncertain smile in response before Diana tells them it’s time to go. 

They spend the ride to Oxford in a similar way to yesterday, Tom talking about figure skating and Chris finding himself more interested than he ever thought he would be. When they get there Tom tells him that London’s artistic skating club has got their own changing room and that if he wants to, Chris can join him in later when it’s time for him to change. The girls don’t compete until this afternoon so it’ll be okay. Chris shrugs and tells him yes. 

Once again they spend almost an hour looking at the other skaters together before it’s time for Tom’s warmup. Diana and him then make their way to the changing room and Diana prepares Tom’s costume and the things he needs for his hair. Tom returns half an hour later with a bright smile.

“Feels good. The flip was a little off but I just need to keep my shoulders in place and it should be alright.” Tom tells them and sits down next to his Mum.[1] He pulls off his trainers and pulls out a roll of tape to finish taping his feet. He had started in the car but got too engaged in what he was talking about and didn’t have time to finnish. 

Kenneth enters a moment later, a pleased smile on his face.

“We’ve got this in the bag.” He tells them and leans his back to the wall. Tom hums in agreement and wraps a piece of tape around his little toe. 

“You’ll be ready in twenty?” Kenneth asks from his place by the door and Tom nods. “Great. Well, it’s time for a coffee break.” He says, waves goodbye and walks out the door. 

“How’s your feet?” Diana asks and looks over Tom’s shoulder at his feet. Tom wiggles his taped toes and nods.

“I cut my nails last night so it should be okay.” He mumbles. Diana gives him a hug from behind and Chris feels like he’s intruding on something very personal. They have a rather odd mother-son relation, Chris thinks. They have one of those relationships that you see in commercials for Merci chocolate where mother and son are best friends. It’s both sad and sweet at the same time.

“You ready to do your hair?” She asks and Tom nods once again before positioning himself in between Diana’s legs.

“Chris,sweetie, would you please give me the blue bag.” Diana holds out her hand. Chris turns around an locates the blue bag. He gives it to Diana and sits down to watch them. 

Diana starts combing through his hair with practised ease, slicking down curl after curl. Tom grimaces a few times as Diana tugs at his curls and Chris chuckles a bit. He remembers when his mother used to comb his hair. He had whined all the time even though it hadn’t hurt much at all.

As more and more of Tom’s hair disappear down to lay flat on his skull his face transform. Before, the hair worked as a beacon that drew all your attention to the blond mop. Now, however, you can actually see his face. You can see the high cheekbones and the sharp nose, his eyes pop and his face get an normal shape instead of the usual mushroom one. 

He looks absolutely _gorgeous_.

Chris inhales sharply as this hits him. Tom is one of the most beautiful, if not _the_ most beautiful, person he’s ever seen. But NO! No nononono. Chris isn’t gay. And Tom isn’t beautiful. He’s just..mildly attractive, if you’re a girl. Chris isn’t a girl, he’s just a guy who can see that _if_ he were a girl he would think Tom were pretty. 

Chris looks away from Tom and takes up his phone, checking...something. He only looks up for a moment when he hears the spray of a spray can. He sees Diana holding a spray can and moving it over Tom’s hair, colouring it black. They begin fiddling with something else a few minutes later but Chris doesn’t look up this time, instead focusing on killing as many enemies as possible on his little screen, because that’s fucking manly.

They’ve spent the last fifteen minutes in silence. A comfortable silence, like the one you share with best friends. So when Diana claps her hands and says:“All done sweetheart.” Chris actually startles. 

His head snaps up and he the first he sees are a pair of piercing blue eyes, staring straight into his soul. But then they turn away and Tom comes into view. His head is turned away in a shy gesture and he is fiddling with the zipper of the garment bag. From what Chris can see the only real change is Tom’s hair, which puzzles him because why would Tom be shy over something like that? And besides, it isn’t like Tom turning his face away is going to hide the black hair from him.

As Diana walks out to take a cup of tea Chris says:

“Tom,”

“Yes?” Tom answers in a tense voice and the slightly mocking question about why Tom won’t look at him dies on Chris’ tongue. 

“Nice hair.” He says instead.

“Thanks.” Tom makes a move as if to turn around but changes his mind and turns back, pulling out his black costume out of his garment bag. He places his hands on the hem of his sweat pants, sighs and pulls them down, revealing a pair of light yellow briefs. 

(And a nice ass but Chris does definitely _not_ think that. No way mister.) 

Tom steps out of his trousers with rushed and jerky movements and unzips the zipper on the side of his costume. His phone chimes suddenly and Tom’s hands leave the zipper and tries to fish out the phone from his jacket. The piece of technology slips from his fingers and slides across the floor.

“No!” Tom squeeks quietly and follows it. 

The phone comes to a stop in front of Chris and he bends down to pick it up. He turns it around in his hands, checking for cracks in the glass, before looking up and handing the phone back. Tom takes it with a smile and tells him something but Chris can’t concentrate because there is make up on Tom’s face. And not just a little. A lot. 

His eyes are lined with thick black lines, covering the whole eye socket, and there are red, orange and yellow glitter spread scarcely on top of the black and around it. His cheekbones are highlighted with a white grey colour, making his cheeks looking sunken in. 

Chris recoils with a frown on his face and Tom stops smiling. Chris catches a horrified look on Tom’s face before the brit has turned away and is once again hiding his face. 

“Tom, are you wea-”

“It’s for the costume, I-I didn’t choose to wear it. Kenneth says that I have to wear it because of the routine and- It just makes it better and I get more points. I don’t even know how to put it on and-and I don’t usually wear it. I don’t wear makeup. I don’t- could you please not tell anyone.” He sits down on the bench by his things and hides his head in his hands. “Please.” 

Chris immediately feels bad. He had thought about laughing, or at least teasing a little, but Tom reacts like this to Chris just seeing him with makeup on. No way he’s going to do that now. 

“Hey, Tom. It’s nothing wrong with wearing makeup. It looks cool even.” He says in the most consoling voice he feels comfortable with using on another male. “And I understand that you have to wear it when you skate. It’s that kind of sport, you know. Gay” Tom looks up from his hands but he doesn’t smile or anything else that Chris expected. Instead he looks hurt. Chris figures Tom must think he’s pulling his leg.

“Look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make fun of you and I do really think it looks cool” He actually does and that surprises him because Tom is a boy. And he’s wearing makeup! “And I promise I won’t tell anyone. Ever.” 

Tom smiles at him then and Chris feels like he can relax a little. 

“Better put on your costume. Kenneth will be here any time.” 

Tom obliges and pulls it on. Chris tries not to stare as Tom takes of his shirts and tries even harder not to think about why he even wants to stare in the first place. When Tom has pulled on the suit Chris notices that the lining around the neck looks like scales, something which were hidden earlier by the black fabric of the mannequin. 

Tom does really look like an evil wizard turning into a dragon when he’s got it all on and Chris makes sure to tell him this. Because he does still feel guilty about earlier. Kenneth chooses that moment to walk in through the door and order Chris out of the changing room. 

Outside Chris hears the speaker call the first warm up group in Tom’s group out on the ice. It’s the four that got the lowest points yesterday. He cranes his neck and looks for Diana, finding her on the same spot as they sat yesterday. Within a minute of walking he’s sitting next to her. 

The first two skaters Chris watches with bored interest but as Tom’s warm up group draws nearer, and inevitably Tom’s free skating, he finds himself getting nervous. His stomach knotting in anticipation over the thought that Tom might win, and horror that he might not. He wants Tom to win, because he wants Tom to be best at something. He wants Tom to feel that happiness. 

Much too soon, but still not soon enough, the last skater has finished and Tom’s group is called out on the ice for six minutes of warm up. Chris notes with a smile that Tom looks happy and leans back to just enjoy the warm up. His skating looks good and the flip, or the jump Diana tells him is the flip, looks even better than good. 

Six minutes move fast and soon Tom is standing alone on the ice, talking to Kenneth as he shrugs out of his jacket. They hug once and then Tom skates out on the ice and places himself in position. The music starts and Chris finds himself holding his breath, waiting excitedly for the first jump. But when it comes, instead of landing it and making Chris shiver because it’s just too awesome in combination to the music, Tom falls. Hard. Which is odd because he clearly touched the ice on one foot, even Chis could see that, but then his leg gave out.

Tom steps up from the ice and continues as if nothing, soon preparing for the next jump. It all goes smooth until he pops open in the middle of the jump, stopping the rotation completely and landing forwards with a stumble. 

Once again Tom continues as if he landed the jump perfectly. He skates on and manages to perform a jump without too much trouble. Chris smiles but when he hears Diana sigh and mumble something about a combination jump his face falls. 

They continue to watch Tom as he does a perfect spin and a mediocre step sequence. He prepares to jump again, the flip this time, but he fails this one miserably. He falls over on his stomach and slides two meters over the ice before he manages to regain control. 

The rest of the program Tom skates with a pained expression he can’t really cover up behind his otherwise amazing acting. His jumps are half bad the whole bunch and he only manages one of his three combination, and Chris hears Diana growing more or more concerned. 

As Tom finishes he gets a round of disappointed lukewarm applauses which he still thanks professionally. He turns around to skate off the ice and two strides later Chris can see that he’s limping.

“Oh no!” Diana breathes and stands up, rushing past Chris and towards Tom. Chris stands up and sits back down again, not even close to sure on how to react in this situation. He wants to go and check on Tom to see if he’s okay but he’s not sure if Kenneth would approve of him being there. 

He decides that Kenneth can shove his opinions up his arse when he sees Tom biting his lip in a grimace of pain. He stumbles into standing position, trying to run before he’s properly on his feet, and rushes down up the stairs of the grandstand and down the aisle to the right. When he reaches the stair leading down to the changing rooms he almost falls down them. Somewhere in his mind he wonders when he got so concerned about Tom but it gets lost over the panic in his mind worrying if Tom is alright. 

He would have ran straight up to Tom if Diana hadn’t grabbed him and held him back. The sudden stop makes him snap out of his panicked state and he realises that Tom is actually still competing, technically. 

Tom is sitting on the kiss and cry bench, smiling weakly, and Kenneth is sitting next to him, his arm around Tom shoulders. There is a camera in front of him airing directly to the jumbotron hanging over the ice. Everyone can see what he’s doing. 

“What do you think happened?” Chris asks Diana. 

“His feet. He’s had problems before.” Diana sounds distant and Chris can understand. It’s her son sitting there, concealing that he’s in pain.

Finally the speaker calls out Tom’s score, _123.94. Tom has received a total of 187.37 and is currently in first place_ , and Kenneth immediately pulls Tom into standing position and they make their way towards Chris and Diana. Tom walks almost normally until he’s outside the audience’s sight and then leans his entire weight on Kenneth on his left, his mask slipping and a whine making its way through his mouth. 

Where did Tom learn to hide pain so well?

“The changing room.” Kenneth says sternly and he and Tom begin to move forwards. Chris quickly rushes to Tom’s side and supports him so he can hop on one skate the short way to the changing room. 

Kenneth sends him a blaming look over Tom’s hanging head and Chris counters with a what-do-you-want-old-fucker look of his own. Tom has stopped whimpering but is now hanging powerlessly between them. He keens loudly when he accidentally hits his right foot on the threshold and Chris can’t help but cringe. 

Well inside they sit Tom down and Kenneth immediately bends down and begins untying his right skate with hurried movements. Diana starts fussing over Tom, touching his face and asking worried questions about how he is and if he needs something. Tom does a really good job of pretending that he’s all fine and that he’s just tired until Kennet starts pulling off his left skate. His mouth opens in a silent scream and he clutches Diana’s hand hard. 

Kenneth ignores all that and just continues to pull the boot off. His face sets in rigid lines and he slowly closes his eyes. Chris looks over the gray haired man’s shoulder and sees that the entire bottom half of Tom’s blue sock is stained red by blood. Tom’s breath hitches.

“The first aid kit please Chris. By Tom’s skating bag.” Kenneth says calmly. Chris quickly obliges and grabs the neon yellow bag. Kenneth practically tears it from his hand as he hands it to him. 

“I’ll clean up the blood.” Diana says and she sounds surprisingly calm for a mother with a son whose foot is drenched in blood. 

“The other skate Chris.” Kenneth orders. Chris knees down next to Kenneth and stares with confusion at the trouser leg covering the skate. It’s fastened under the skate between the boot and the blade with a strap and Chris can’t figure out how to remove it. He tentatively moves his hands around Tom’s boot, following the strap. Underneath he finds a velcro strap and gently tugs the two pieces apart before quickly undoing the knot and unlacing the boot, pulling it off gently.

Meanwhile Kenneth has pulled Tom’s sock off his foot and begun searching for the wound. He twists the foot around but finds nothing. He then begins separating Tom’s toes to look between them. When he spread the ring toe from the little toe Tom let out a string of curses and Chris knew Kenneth had found the wound. 

Muttering to himself, Kenneth runs a finger in the space between the toes.

“Kenneth! Kenneth Stop!” Tom squeaks with his eyes screwed shut in pain. 

“I told you to cut your toe nails!” Kenneth growls back.

“I. Fucking. Did!” 

“Then why do you got a nail jammed in your toe?” 

“I don’t know!” 

Kenneth mutters under his breath, lets go of Tom’s foot and turns around to fetch something from the first aid pack. Tom carefully slides his bloody foot under the bench and behind his other, as if to hide it. 

Chris takes this moment of somewhat calm and sinks down on the bench next to Tom, revealed that the younger man is alright. 

“This will hurt.” Kenneth says as he turns around with a tweezer in his hand.

“Kenneth. Take it out gently.” Tom warns. 

“The sooner it’s out the sooner we can put a plaster around it and the sooner it’ll be healed.” Kenneth reasons grimly.

“Kenneth, it’s a matter of seconds it won’t-” Kenneth grabs hold of Tom’s foot and pulls it out from under the bench. “Gently Kenneth! GENTLY!” Tom shrieks.

“I hear you!” Kenneth gives Tom a look but it’s apologizing and not scolding. “Hold onto something.” He spreads Tom’s toes and presses his finger under where Chris assumes the wound is. 

As Kenneth starts digging with the tweezer Chris suddenly finds himself with a hand squeezing his own. He follows the arm attached to the hand with his eyes and finds that Tom is holding his hand. Which was what he expected but somehow didn’t want to believe. 

Tom looks up and into Chris’ eyes, his own widening in fear. Chris feels the grip on his hand loosening and trying to get away but Chris doesn’t want Tom to let go. It feels nice, right even, to have Tom’s hand in his own. The warmth of his palm against his own. The way Tom’s hands are only slightly smaller than his own and not lithe as a girl’s. The way it fits so very perfectly. All of these things feel right. 

Tom is still trying to pull his hand away but Chris tightens his grip, holding Tom’s hand firmly. The look in Tom’s eyes change into one of amazement and then he’s once again gripping for his life as Kenneth continues to try and get the nail out.

It takes only a minute but Chris is sure it feels like an hour in Tom’s mind. They half carry Tom, half walk Tom to the bathroom next and wash away the blood. The nail on his little toe had somehow broke and lodged itself firmly inside Tom’s ring toe, shifting and tearing a bigger hole each time Tom moved. 

Kenneth then removes the now gray and fraying sports tape from Tom’s foot and puts proper padding and plaster on the wound. Diana sticks her head out the door and tells them that it’s Matthew’s turn to skate, and he’s the last skater. 

Tom reluctantly puts on his skates again, he’s needed on the ice for the price ceremony, and ties the right one very loosely. They get out in time to hear Matthew receiving a total of 187.63, beating Tom by not even half a point. 

Both Kenneth and Tom groans.

“Seriously?” Tom sighs.

“We’ll go and pack up so we can go home.” Diana says and gives Tom a quick hug. “Come on Chris.”

They pack while Tom accepts a small trophy and a silver medallion, putting away hair products, blankets and food in various bags. Tom then limps off the ice and they meet him in the changing room.Or rather, Diana does. The girls have arrived and Chris gets banned from entering. 

Fortunately, Tom is quick and soon they’re on their way, Tom receiving wishes of better luck next time from a few strangers. They stop once to wait for Diana as she fetches a box she forgot at their seats. Matthew chooses that moment to walk up and gloat. As he shows off his medal and tells Tom that it was only a matter of time before he beat him. Tom doesn’t say anything in defence but merely stands there as Matthew practically rubs his gold medal in Tom’s face. Chris feels anger well up in him. This is Tom’s world where Tom is happy, and Matthew is treating him like shit. 

He didn’t even win with much, and the only reason he won was because Tom had a non functioning foot. 

When Matthew tells them that today he got a new personal best Chris has just had enough. So he tells Matthew that it’s a great thing that he managed to beat Tom because beating someone by thirty hundredths of a point when that someone has only one foot to skate on is truly amazing. Especially when you take into consideration that Tom skated the worst routine of his life and Matthew skated the best routine of his life. Surely that is something to brag about because winning fair and square isn’t. 

Matthew quiets after that and walks away with his head lowered. Chris turns around and faces Tom who, for a moment, looks like he wants to hug Chris in a very _very_ gay way but then settles for a thank you. Chris is pleased by that. No really, he is. Not disappointed at all. 

During the road home Tom falls asleep even though it’s barely past one in the afternoon. He sleeps with his mouth open and his hands fisted in his lap, snoring lightly. Chris spends the ride home trying convince himself that Tom does not look adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] [A flip](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBSsCXe32aw) (triple)
> 
> Fun fact, toes does actually bleed quite a lot. I've had my nails ripping holes in my toes and I was surprised at how much it hurt and how much it bled. I noticed it earlier than Tom did but I still had a large part of my sock and foot covered in blood. 
> 
> Anyway, Chris is finally coming around, isn't he? ;D 
> 
> Thanks for reading and see you again on Monday.
> 
> Comments are lovely <3


	8. Easy or Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When faced with feelings he can't understand Chris decides to ignore them, but is it the right decision or just the easy one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again dearies :D
> 
> Thank you all so very much for the kind and amazing comments and all the wonderful response :'D I have the best readers in the world. 
> 
> I would like to warn for feels in this chapter because there will probably be some.
> 
> Enjoy <3

Chris is beginning to get worried. Tom has done something to him, has made all this feelings appear inside him, and Chris does not like it. Tom is a friend and only that. But Chris still have different feelings for him than he has for any of his other friends. He doesn’t poke or prod at these feelings, afraid of what he might find. Instead he deal with them in a very manly way, pushing them away and not thinking about them.

He doesn’t think about it when Tom smiles at him in class and he gets something warm and fluffy in his stomach. He doesn’t think about it when he watches Tom skate and all he can think about is how beautiful he looks on the ice.He doesn’t think about it when Gary later imitates Tom in the most unflattering of ways and Chris wants to yell at him to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t think about it when Tom gets laughed at in school and Chris just wants to hide him away. He doesn’t think about it as Tom gets shoved into the pool with his towel still on during a class visit to the bathhouse and Chris almost can’t contain the anger inside him. 

And he definitely doesn’t think about it when Tom asks him if he wants to come over to his place and Chris says yes. In hindsight, he wishes he had. 

It was another Saturday, which Chris had learned by now was Tom’s day off skating, when he got the text from Tom asking him if he wanted to come over. He had said yes and ignored the bubbles in his chest. 

Now, he is walking slowly towards Tom’s house, watching it coming closer as anticipation builds up inside him. When he passes the beautiful flowers Tom’s mother has planted he feels a smile make its way over his face and when he knocks on the door, hearing Tom bundle down the stair to answer, he feel a close to overwhelming need to...touch Tom? 

“Hello Chris.” Tom answers with a bright smile and Chris embraces him. A real hug, no pats on the back or awkward distance between them. 

“Sup.” He says after releasing Tom. 

“I-I was just...ah...lunch?” Tom stutters out, a red blush covering his cheeks. 

“Sure thing mate.” Chris says and walks in without Tom inviting him to do so. When he started to feel so at home with Tom is a mystery but just like everything else with Tom he doesn’t think too much about it. He just shrugs out of his jacket and toes off his shoes. 

He follows Tom into the kitchen where an array of ingredients and utensils are already laid out. Tom opens a closet and takes out two aprons, throwing one to Chris and placing the other on the table. He then proceeds to take off his cardigan and Chris diverts his eyes, once again ignoring some kind of feeling rushing around inside him. He does peak though, a little, and what he sees doesn’t disappoint the feeling inside him. 

Tom is wearing a white shirt with purple front, which isn’t so special. However, the front is in a fabric so thin it’s close to see through and boy does Chris see through. But he doesn’t actually look, because looking at Tom’s abs would be gay, and Chris is not a pervert. 

Tom does really have a great sense of fashion and how to dress, but he never uses it in school. Chris only sees him wearing nice clothes when Tom is at home, never in school. In school Tom sticks to white or black t-shirt or long sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, at rare times maybe a worn cardigan of some sorts. Chris wonders why. He’d like to see more of Tom in nice button ups, his sleeves always rolled up to his elbows, well fitted trousers that show off his muscles, once again Chris doesn’t actually look, or interesting t-shirts. 

Pushing that out of his mind, Chris holds up the apron, frowning at the feminine frills that covers it, and asks in a reluctant voice.

“You haven’t got anything...less girly?” 

Tom, who’s already pulled on his apron, looks a bit taken aback by the question before nodding and walking back to the closet and searching through it. He pulls out a deep blue one.

“Dad accidently burnt a hole in this one but it should be okay.” Tom says. 

“Nothing says man like fire.” Chris says and takes the apron from Tom. He convinces himself that he doesn’t see Tom pulling at his own apron, untying the bow he made and leaving the strings tied with only a simple knot.

“We’re making Chicken salad, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Sure thing.” Chris shrugs and walks up to the counter, looking at all the vegetables gathered there. Tom explains what they’re going to do and Chris nods along. They start up, Tom working on the chicken and Chris chopping vegetables. When it becomes clear that Chris has no idea on how to properly slice vegetables they switch jobs. 

They talk nonsense and laugh through it all and once again Chris feels those feelings rise within him, almost taking over. In a fit of...something, Chris _won’t_ think about it, he decides that touching Tom is a good idea. Just casual touches, a hand on the shoulder, a brush of his hand, that kind of things. Each touch earns him a bright smile from Tom and a rush of something in his chest.

They eat outside in the sunlight, sitting in Tom’s backyard and looking at nothing. The sun warms Chris’ skin and even though it’s late September it’s hot enough to sit outside without a jacket. Surprisingly, the chicken salad turned out to be completely eatable, even tasty.

“Soo... what do you wanna do today mate?” Chris asks and shoves another piece of chicken in his mouth.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugs. “I guess I just wanted to see you...” He trails off, staring intently at his plate.

“Okay. Well how about we...uh” Chris stops, trying to control the feelings that went haywire when Tom told him he wanted to see him. He can’t think with all of this going on inside him. It needs to stop somehow. But he can’t stop it until he finds out what _it_ really is and that’s not going to happen anytime soon. 

“How about we watch a movie or play a game or something.” Chris suggest. Tom frowns.

“In this nice weather?”

“Dude, you sound like my mother.” Chris laughs punching Tom lightly on the shoulder, ignoring the nervous laugh coming from Tom. 

“Sorry.” Tom mumbles. 

“It’s alright.”

They’re quiet for a minute before Tom speaks.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” He says hesitantly and Chris turns around to face him. Tom is breathing heavily and his hands are shaking slightly, the fork rattling against the plate. He swallows once and opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Yeah?” Chris urges, leaning in a bit.

“I-I was just wondering if you had seen the Star trek remake?” He asks with a strained smile.

“No, why?” Chris asks suspiciously. Tom is acting weird and that unsettles Chris, making him worried that Tom doesn’t feel comfortable around him anymore. Has he done something wrong? Has he said something offensive? Chris! Think first, speak later!

“We could watch it.” Tom says and his voice is pitched oddly.

“Sure... You alright Tom? You sound a little off.” Chris raises his eyebrows and leans forwards even more.

“Yeah. I just- I just got something stuck in my throat.”

Chris nods,refrains from pointing out that Tom finished eating five minutes ago and follows the curly haired boy inside.

* * *

“What is it like not to feel anger?” Kirk asks venomously. “Heartbreak? Or the need to stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you?”

“Back away from me.” Spock threats

“You feel nothing!” Kirk spits in Spocks face. “It must not even compute for you! You never loved her”

Spock lets out a furious roar and punches Kirk right in the face. The two starfleet officers fight, Spock clearly having the upper hand, until the Vulcan has a stranglehold on Kirk. There is a long pause where no one speaks a word.

“Spock!” Calls a Vulcan in the background and after a moment Spock releases his grip on Kirk’s throat. He looks around the bridge, confused.

“Doctor I am no longer fit for duty.” He says quietly. “I hereby relinquish my command based on the fact that I have been-” A pause “Emotionally compromised.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Chris yells at the screen, throwing up his arm in exacerbation. Tom stifles a giggle behind his hand.

“How can he be so stupid? Your mom just died dude! How can you not be upset!” Chris continues and Tom almost doubles over in his efforts not to laugh. “Are you laughing at me?” Chris squeaks. 

“I’m sorry!” Tom wheezes as he collapses back down on Chris chest. 

“You better be.” Chris lays a protective arm over Tom’s chest and snuggles down in the pillows. Tom sighs and rests his head just over Chris heart, listening to it beat.

They had started off on opposite ends of the couch as the movie begun, but as more and more time passed they had moved closer and closer to each other. It had begun with them both wanting to have their feet on the couch, which led to Tom having his legs between Chris’ legs. That hadn’t been comfortable so Tom had shifted and placed Chris’ legs in his lap. After a toilet break Tom had sat down on the same place again, but with one of Chris’ legs behind his back.. Halfway through the movie Tom had leaned back against Chris chest and they had stayed like that since. 

It just feels so right to have Tom leaning against him like this, Tom’s head resting against his chest and his hair tickling Chris’ neck. It feels like this is the way it should always be. Chris and Tom. Together. 

Tom is absentmindedly tracing little circles on Chris’ arm, making goosebumps rise where his nails just scraped the skin. Chris inhales deeply. Tom’s hair smells vaguely like lemon and lavender. It goes well with the fresh, clean scent that is Tom. There is a pleasant warmth in his stomach and for once Chris doesn’t ignore it. Instead he revels in it, sucking up as much as he possibly can and storing it to memory. 

Tom’s phone chimes. 

Twisting around to get a better reach, Tom extends his hand towards the phone but Chris snatches it before his fingers can close around the piece of technology.

“You’ve got a text mate.” Chris says, looking at the phone. The Iphone hasn’t got a code lock but before he can unlock it and read the text Tom’s hands are in his face, trying to take the phone away from him.

“Give it to me.” Tom commands but the bright smile on his face takes away the little authority he had. .

“No.” Chris says and holds the phone outside of Tom’s reach. 

“I need to read the text.” Tom laughs.

“Why? Is it from your girlfriend?” Chris teases. The words leave a strange aftertaste in his mouth but Chris figures he must have accidently burped earlier without noticing and the taste is just the chicken salad making a reappearance. 

“No, Chris. Gimme.” Tom has turned around completely and his chest is pressed flushed against Chris’ as he tries to grab his Phone. Chris is waving the hand he’s holding the phone in around, keeping it close enough for Tom’s fingertips to touch it, but not close enough for him to grab it. 

Chris moves his hand to the right, holding the phone over the edge of the couch, and Tom launches after it. The force behind motion tips Tom off Chris and in an effort to not fall down on the floor he grabs hold of the closest thing he can get his hands on. Chris bicep. Unprepared for the sudden jerk, Chris has no time to hold onto something and they both tumble off the couch. 

Chris ends up on top of Tom, his face inches away from the other male’s. Tom’s knee is between his legs, his thigh pressing at Chris’ crotch, and Chris’ left hand is trapped between his and Tom’s bodies, his fingers ghosting Tom’s nipple. 

None of them are laughing anymore, they just breathe. 

Chris can feel his pulse pounding in his ears and his throat is as dry as the Sahara. He can feel Tom’s breath on his face, warm and erratic. His own hitches. All he can see is Tom’s deep blue, oh so beautiful eyes. 

He watches as Tom swallows, his eyes shining with determined fear, leans in and places the smallest of kisses on Chris’ lips. A shiver runs through the Australians body as their lips make contact. 

 

For a moment Chris feels nothing and then a cascade of emotions explode inside him. He doesn’t dare to move, afraid that the emotions are going to rip him apart, but when Tom leans back down he can’t help leaning after him. 

An undefinable amount of time passes, Chris will never know, but then it all clears inside him. He realises he wants to kiss Tom. To hold him. To touch him. To please him. To tell him he lo-

No...

No, no no.

No, this is not good. Not good at all. 

There is no way on earth that he could ever feel that way for Tom. No way. Not in a billion years. Yet he does. He looks into Tom’s eyes and sees them reflecting the horror that burns inside him. Chris is so scared, terrified of what this means, and he can’t think straight. He needs to get out of here. 

Chris rolls off Tom, pushing away the boy as he tries to follow him up, and flees. He almost falls and breaks his neck on his way down the stairs and it’s a wonder he managed to grab his jacket and get his shoes on in his delirious state. 

The moment he’s outside the front door he starts running, and he doesn’t stop until he’s safely back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...But Chris is a stupid head in this story. 
> 
> I will see you next Monday and take care all my wonderful readers :D
> 
> Comments are lovely <3


	9. Re-establishing the lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know that love makes us fools. We act on instinct and emotions, tuning out the rational part of our brain. Most of the time this leads to sweet, spontaneous, first kisses in the rain, silly but honest declarations of love and nights of mind blowing passion. This is what happens most of the time.
> 
> But not always...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dearies<3
> 
> Oh My God! I am so very sorry for not updating this morning like I had promised to. Real life popped in for a visit and turned out to stay longer than I had first anticipated so I have been so busy. *Shakes fist at real life* Grrr.
> 
> Luckily though it's still Monday (for most of you) 
> 
> In this chapter I have to warn for feels and offensive language
> 
> Enjoy <3

Chris storms down the corridor, shoving unlucky students out of his way. He needs to talk to Tom. 

He had spent the rest of last Saturday ignoring everything that had happened between him and Tom and all the feelings that had erupted because of that. Yesterday, however, he had spent hours thinking through the situation, deciding on what needed to be done and how it needed to be done. 

Chris had made up his mind long ago. He isn’t gay, and he never will be. The feelings he has for Tom must go away somehow. He had to re-establish where the lines goes in their friendship and make it clear that Tom could not continue to cross those lines. If Tom proved too stupid or too perverted for that then he simply had to cut the bonds. He couldn’t risk his whole social life for a faggot like Tom.

He slams the door open and walks into the English classroom. He knows Tom will be in here. He has learnt Tom’s schedule over the month and a half they have been friends. Tom always eats as quickly as he can and then hides in whatever classroom where his next class is held, that way he keeps out of most peoples way. 

It’s perfect for the conversation they’re just about to have.

“Tom.” He barks and the Britt looks up, startled. “We need to talk.” 

“Chris.” Tom smiles and closes the book he’s reading. It’s The Great Gatsby, Tom told him. He wants to read it before the movie comes out. 

Chris stops in front of Tom’s bench and crosses his hands over his chest.

“It’s about Saturday.” He says, looking Tom dead in the eyes. Tom gives him a confused look.

“Yeah?” He asks hesitantly. 

“It’s about the kiss.” Chris leans down and close to Tom’s face, placing his hands on Tom’s bench. The younger boy instinctively leans back. “You can’t keep doing that gay shit if we’re going to stay friends.” 

Tom reverts his eyes, his fingers twitching on the book cover. Chris feels something grab hold of his heart, squeezing, but ignores it. He needs to do this.

“Certainly.” Tom looks up with a smile. “Of course. I don’t know what I thought. I guess it was just some failed joke or something.” He laughs but it sounds hollow. 

“Don’t do it again.” Chris threatens. and pushes off from Tom’s bench and sits down in the one next to him. From the corner of his eye he can see how Tom runs his fingers through his hair several times, turning away from Chris to hide his face. 

They hadn’t talked during physics that morning, Tom had tried to but Chris hadn’t wanted to, and they don’t talk during this lesson. Instead Tom is completely engrossed in making notes even though he has already written down everything the teacher says. Chris knows. 

When the bell rings Tom is out of his seat before Chris has finished gathering his things. 

Chris spends the rest of the day feeling bad. Maybe he was a bit harsh on Tom. He still wants to be Tom’s friend. He just needed to take control over what kind of friendship it is. It’s a friendship between two men. Not between two girls or a girl and a boy. It’s not okay with that amount of physical contact or stares, especially not if one of the friends are gay. 

To apologize he text with Tom the rest of the evening and it feels like Tom hasn’t taken his rejection too bad. _Good_ Chris thinks before going to bed. _Tom still likes me_. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

He continues to ignore Tom during school, because they’re not school friends and they never were. Tom is his outside of school friend and they should only see each other outside of school. This is another line that should be restored. Tom can’t just expect Chris to have time with him in school. 

Tom seems hurt by Chris nonexistent attention at first but by Wednesday he’s used to it. On Tuesday he had asked Chris why he wouldn’t talk to him and Chris had told him the truth, that he couldn’t be seen with Tom in school. Today on Wednesday Tom does even try to speak with him during physics even though Chris knew Tom needs help with the calculations and likes to ask Chris about it. 

He still follows Tom to the skating rink,, waiting for him outside school so they can take the tube together. Once they’re outside school grounds Tom comes out of his silent shell, talking with animated hand gestures and a bright smile on his face. The bubbly feeling returns to Chris’ stomach and for once he leaves the matter be. 

As the train reaches Euston square and people rush in Tom gets squashed between the back of another man and Chris chest. Chris once again feels his pulse picking up and his palms getting sweaty. He decides he needs to do something about this. Something to relieve the tension within him.

“Don’t you dare kiss me again.” He jokes and chuckles a bit. Tom laughs too but it’s a bit too high and too long for it to be entirely genuine. It doesn’t feel any better.

Seven minutes later they step into the changing room and Tom immediately shrugs out of his jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks.

“What are you going to do today?” Chris asks. sinking down beside the britt. 

“I need to work on my axel. I still don’t land it often enough.” Tom pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside. Chris’ eyes involuntarily land on Tom’s chest, taking in the fine musculature and soft curves. He wants to run his hands up that chest. He wants to feel if the skin is really as soft as it look. He wants to lick and taste Tom’s skin. 

Chris shakes his head violently and Tom turn around to face him, his jeans unbuttoned. You can see Tom’s green underwear where the jeans hang open and there is a faint trail of ginger hair peeking out above the edge ot the underwears. Chris wants to see where that trail leads.

“Chris? Are you okay?” Tom’s voice sounds like velvet

“Yeah...Yes. Sure. Ah...axel?” He coughs and turns away from Tom. He’s not gay. He’s not gay. He’s not gay. He is not gay!

“A jump. The one where you face forwards when you jump.” Tom steps out of his jeans and Chris can’t help but glance at the lean limbs from the corner of his eye. 

“M-hm.” Chris hums to show that he’s still listening, although he’s not. He just heard that there was a pause and he wants to hear more of Tom’s voice. 

“You have to sort of swing your leg forwards to get momentum.” Tom begins swinging his right leg back and forth, emphasizing his point. _The muscles in his leg move beautifully_ is all Chris can think off. Following the line created by those mile long legs upwards, Chris’ eyes settles on Tom crotch. Each time his leg swings Chris can see something shift. He’s not supposed to stare. He knows that. But he can’t look away. The blood in his body rushes downwards to the entirely wrong area and he feels a blush making its way up his face.

“I sometimes stop the motion. I need to follow through more, to really swing all the way. That’s what...” Tom trails off and Chris realises that he must be looking at him. “Chris, are you sure you’re alright? You look a bit flustered. Do you wan-”

“Just put on some goddamn clothes will you? I don’t want to see you prancing around naked!”  
Chris shouts and Tom flinches. 

“Sorry.” He whispers as he pulls on his tights in record speed. 

Chris feels guilt settle in his guts. This wasn’t even a line that had to be reinforced. Him and the team always walks around in their underwear when they’re changing. It’s a part you can’t get away from so you just better get used to it. He just...wanted all the wrong things when he saw Tom in just his underwear so he just did what was best for them both. Doing what is best is always the right thing to do. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty. 

Tom has already pulled on his clothes and is very busy with taping his feet. The wound on his left foot has healed but the area is still red and, from the looks of it, sore. Chris wants to ask Tom how it is but doesn’t trust himself not to say something that will hurt Tom. 

They sit in silence as Tom ties his skates and fixes with everything else that needs to be done before he can go on the ice.

“You ready to go?” Tom asks quietly. Chris looks up, having gotten lost in his thoughts, and gives a jerky nod in answer. Tom walks out the door and Chris follows. They sit down on the bench in the booth by the ice, watching the small children having a lesson with Kenneth. 

They’re five, six maybe seven years old, stumbling around in what may or may not be actual figure skating steps. Kenneth skates beside them, correcting what they’re doing wrong, or rather, too wrong not to be ignored. 

One of them, a girl, waves at Tom with a bright smile on her face.

“Hi Tom!” She calls, standing on her tiptoes to look over the sarg.

“Hi Alice.” Tom waves back. Chris shoots Tom a look, silently asking about the girl. 

“She’s a part of what Kenneth calls the fan group. They’re these small girls who... well they kinda are my fans if you can say that. It mostly involves waving at them and giving the occasional hug. Once I got a card saying, and I quote: To Tohmas, You are supper special.” He laughs and Chris wants to hear that sound all the time. 

“I don’t say this often mate, but that is too adorable.” Chris laughs as Tom waves to another girl. 

“I know.” Tom giggles and leans his side against Chris’. Tom is warm and soft, just like Chris imagined. Not that he has thought about how Tom feel ( _trembling under his fingers as he caresses Tom’s alabaster skin_ ) he just...managed to get an idea of how Tom would probably feel during the time he’s known him. Because that’s what happen when you get to know someone. Yup. Well though there Chris. Give yourself a pat on the back.

Tom leans in close and Chris can feel Tom’s breath tickling his ear, making him shiver all over. It would be so easy to press his lips against Tom’s. He just needs to turn his head and kiss. It would be so easy. But he can’t! No! He said he wouldn’t and now he won’t. He’s Chris and Chris is not gay!

“Kenneth told me once that one of the girls had pulled at his sleeve-” Tom pulls at Chris jacket. “- and told him that when she grows up, she wants to: become an ice princess, just like Tom. Kenneth had told her that if I was anything then I was a prince. She had told him no, because I had curly hair and _all_ princes have straight hair.” Tom giggles in his ear, resting his head on Chris shoulder. 

Chris lets out a nervous chuckle, feeling heat rising on his cheeks again. Tom’s hair is tickling his neck just like it did last Saturday but this time it doesn’t make him feel comfortable and protective. Now, instead, it makes him feel frustrated and slightly aroused and he doesn’t like it. He’s not supposed to feel that way around Tom, or any other male. 

As Tom lifts his head and gently strokes his arm Chris turns, with ragged breaths, and snarls:

“Stop touching me faggot! It’s disgusting.” 

Tom moves away as if burned, hurt obvious in his eyes. Chris feels like a dagger have been plunged through his heart but pushes the feeling away and stands up. Walking away, he hears Tom’s faint cry of:

“I’m sorry Chris!” 

It can’t be helped. It’s not okay for one friend to touch the other in that way. It’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed and Tom had skipped right over it. It can’t be helped. It needed to be done. Tom will learn. They will still be able to be friends. It needed to be done. Things will be better after this. Tom must understand that.

No matter what Chris tells himself he still feels the illusive dagger piercing his heart, twisting every time he closes his eyes and sees Tom’s hurt face.

* * *

He had avoided Tom for the rest of the week. Not talking to him at all and even going so far as to call in sick for his hockey practice just so he wouldn’t have to meet Tom at the skating rink. 

Now, he is laying, facing downwards, on his bed, the Ps3 controller in his hand and the pause screen of Assassin's creed flickering on his telly. His phone lays by his head, the cracked screen illuminated and a message conversation open. Tom had texted him and Chris had felt like puking. 

Just the mere thought of Tom made Chris feel awful nowadays. He had lived with a constant knot of guilt in his stomach for the past week but it could be ignored as long as he didn’t think of Tom. 

With a groan he lifts his head and tilts his phone, reading the message once again.

**Hello Chris :-) I’m studying for the physics test on Monday and I don’t understand anything. Could you come and help me?**

**/Tom**

He buries his head in his pillow. Tom’s text makes him so pissed off and he don’t know why. He just wants Tom to shut the fuck up and leave him alone because everytime he sees Tom he feels like shit. 

**no i have 2 study**

He lies. Picking up the controller, which had fallen to the floor when he texted, Chris continues his game. Running around and pickpocketing as many as he can. 

He’s in the middle of a sword fight when he hears the beep signalling a new text. He thinks about whether or not he should pause, risking to forget about the message if he continues playing. The answer reveals itself as Chris gets desynchronized and has to start the mission over.

Feeling pissed, he picks up the phone and opens the message.

**You can come over to my place and we can study together?**

**/Tom**

He lifts his head and stares off into nothing. Really? _Really?_ That faggot texts him, making him lose his game, only to ask for a fucking date! Is he a complete retard? 

**Its not my fucking fault ur stupid**

Chris texts back. He throws his phone across the room, not caring where it lands. The screen is already cracked so it won’t matter if it breaks more. With an angry huff he restarts the mission and spends the rest of the day playing. If he happens to deliberately kill himself off more than normal and if that happens to make the guilt in his stomach lessen a bit then no one needs to know. 

As his mother calls him out for dinner Chris steps on something and hears a small cracking sound. Lifting his foot and looking under it, Chris sees his phone. He picks it up and sees that he’s got two new text messages and one missed call. He opens the texts and sees that both are from Tom.

**Chris, whatever I’ve done I am sorry. If you could please tell me what I’ve done wrong I would do anything to fix it.**

**/Tom  
-  
Chris please.**

**/Tom**

The missed call is also from Tom. 

He feels sick. Why is he feeling like this? He thought creating distance between him and Tom would make him feel better but it has just made him feel worse. Feeling as if all energy has left him, Chris calls: “Not hungry!” and crashes face first down on his bed. He doesn’t move until noon the next day.

* * *

This has to stop. This infuriating problem has to be put to an end. Chris simply can’t go on anymore. Just the mere thought of Tom gets him in a foul mood, wanting to smash whatever he has in his hands. He’s feels tired as well, wanting to sleep all the time. 

It has been like this since last Wednesday evening when he had followed Tom to the skating rink, and now it’s only Tuesday afternoon. It has barely been a week and Chris has already reached his limit. The feelings he had wanted to get rid of that Tom had given him are certainly gone but they have been replaced by all this misery. 

He groans and rests his forehead on the wall. His phone is clutched tightly in his hand and Tom’s contact information are illuminating the screen. Tom. He had wanted to call Tom, the power of the need almost overpowering, but now he once again feels like shit. 

Casting a glance at the screen, he makes up his mind. Tom has to get out of his life. That’s the only way things will return to normal. It doesn’t matter that Kenneth will probably kill him, he can take that, or that Tom will be left alone again. The younger man could do without friends for seventeen years, he can do it again. 

He opens the menu and presses delete. A second later Tom’s contact is erased from his phone. It doesn’t feel any better. In a matter of fact it actually feels worse. 

Damn it all to hell!

Chris begins pacing the length of his room, swearing under his breath and thinking about what to do next. He needs to tell Tom somehow, otherwise he will have the Britt trailing after him for all of time. Or at least all of his senior year. He could call him. He should have called him. He should! Have fucking called! The fucking little fag! 

“ASS BALLS!” Chris screams from the top of his lunges before punching the wall. He deleted the contact and now he needs Tom’s contact. Now he has to wait until after school tomorrow. He can’t possibly tell Tom in school, the fag will cry and Chris can’t stand people crying. 

He dives down on the bed and does a perfect impression of a three year old having a temper tantrum. After letting off some steam he feels better, but only minutely.

“Ass.” He says, just because he can. 

Ten minutes later he hears someone pushing the door open and stepping inside. His mother, probably. Is it already that late?

“Chris?” 

Chris’ head shots up from where it’s buried in his pillow. Tom? 

“Chris are you home?” 

Tom. Definitely Tom. What is he doing here? Chris frowns and sits up. Nevermind why Tom is here. This is his perfect chance to tell him that they can’t be friends anymore. Well, that made things easier.

As he walks towards Tom’s voice he feels like he’s walking to his execution which he can’t understand. He had thought he would feel relief, or at least a positive feeling. Not this horrifying knot in his stomach.

Chris steps out in the hallway and clears his throat. Tom whirls around and a hesitant smile spreads on his lips. 

“Chris.” He breathes.

“Tom.” Chris answers sternly. 

“L-look Chris. I- I think we need to talk.” 

“Yeah, we do.” Chris takes a step forwards, crossing his arms. “This can’t go on any longer Tom. You need to stop.” 

Tom’s mouth opens in a silent reply and confusion shines in his eyes. Closing his mouth, he shifts his foot and pulls his arms up to hug himself. 

“I-I’m afraid I don’t understand.” He whispers. 

“Of course you don’t.” Chris sighs. “This Tom!” He gestures between himself and the curly haired boy. “We can’t be friends anymore. You’ve destroyed everything with your fucking gayness.” He spits.

Tom is trembling slightly, his eyes fixed on his feet. 

“I don’t understand what I’ve done Chris.” His voice is thick with tears. “I-I can-”

“You complete retard!” Chris bellows and Tom flinches. “I don’t want to be friends with a fucking fag! Now get the fuck out of my house!” 

Tom just turns and leaves after that, not even sparing Chris one final glance. Chris slams the door shut, breathing heavily through his nose. He feels absolutely awful but he guesses it will take a while for the relief of finally getting rid of Tom to settle in. He leans back against the door and sinks down to the floor, his head clasped in his hands. 

He waits a minute and nothing happens. After another five he still feels like someone ripped out his intestines and forced him to eat them. Ten minutes later he’s numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides behind rock*
> 
> Sorry! 
> 
> Chris is having a sexual crisis and doesn't know what to do so he does stupid. 
> 
> Just, before any of you ask, there won't be any early update and you will have to wait until Monday. I'm not trying to be cruel but I feel as if if I update early I will run out of chapters to post so that's why I'm making you wait a whole week, so you dearies can trust me to publish one chapter a week without delay until the story is done :)
> 
> Comments are lovely and I will hand out hugs, cookies and cozy blankets for those who needs that.


	10. All on one card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somedays you have to go all out and just hope for the best. Today is one of those days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies <3
> 
> I'm sorry for not answering to your wonderful comments. I've been completely caught up in school work and work for my skating club (we're putting together a show) so I haven't simply had time. (I've written though so don't worry about that.) I've read all of the comments and oh my god! Do I or do I have the best readers in the entire word! Thank you all so very much. 
> 
> Explanations can be found in the end notes.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter

Something plings. Chris raises his head from where it’s been buried in his knees and frowns. It sounded like a phone, but not his nor any of his family members’. He looks around the room, searching for the source, and his eyes lands on Tom’s Iphone laying on the small key table by the door. Tom must have forgotten it. 

Rising from where he’s been leaning against the door, he picks it up and walks towards his room. It’s a text from Tom’s Mum. He should just leave it be. It’s not his phone and he shouldn’t pry in Tom’s private life, especially not now. 

He still slides his finger over the screen and brings up the message.

**Hi sweetheart. How did your talk with Chris go?  
/Mum <3**

Oh, right. Tom had wanted to talk to him about something. He wonders what it was. It must have been important if it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

As he muses over what Tom had wanted to tell him his fingers scroll up and down in Tom’s text history. One particular text catches his eye.

I got a friend today :-D

It’s from Tom to his Mum. The text makes Chris chuckle fondly and the knot in his stomach seems to tighten more. Tom told his Mum. He said it like he was proud of it, proud of Chris. He likes that thought, it makes him feel calmer and less scattered. 

Still, he feels like shit. 

He doesn’t understand! He doesn’t understand why the simple thought that Tom was proud of him, that he liked him (because surely Tom can’t like him now) makes him feel both better and worse. It’s like he lost something important but the memory of it makes him feel better. What Tom was that important and he just lost him? What if he made a big mistake? 

Shaking his head, he decides to just leave the phone alone and starts scrolling down to the bottom. Once again a text from Tom stops him.

**I think I’m in love with Chris. What do I do?**

It is now that the turmoil of feelings inside Chris finally settles in the right place. He’s not angry at Tom, he’s angry at himself for being an ass towards Tom. He’s not miserable because Tom is there all the time, he’s miserable because Tom isn’t there. He’s not afraid of Tom making sexuall advanced on him, he’s afraid of what will happen to him once and if he accepts that he is gay and in love with his best friend. 

In love with his best friend. 

He is. He really is. He’s so in love with Tom that it hurts. And Tom is in love with him and has been for quite some time. Tom has just been too afraid to show it because Chris has been throwing slurs left and right, too busy trying to prove to himself that he’s not gay to notice how much he’s been harming Tom. 

“Oh God.” Chris groans. He has really done it now. Tom thinks Chris hates him. 

Shit! Fuck! Arse! Hell! Dick! Stupid cock sucker!

He throws himself back on the bed. How on earth could he be such a dick? How could he not see? How could he act like he did? Hadn’t he always told himself to think before acting? Chris Hemsworth you are officially the biggest dork in London!

Sighing, he turns his head to look at Tom’s phone and scroll further down in the text history. 

**Dad texted me and said what he whispered to you. He’s right. Chris does look at you like he likes you.  
/Mum <3**

It’s from the Saturday Chris followed Tom to Oxford to watch him skate. Had he really _liked_ Tom back then. Yes. He had. Curious to what Tom answered to that, he reads the reply and feels his stomach drop.

**Mum please stop. He’s just my friend and won’t be anything more than that.**

Tom didn’t even think he had a chance. 

What catches Chris attention next is a series of texts sent after Tom kissed him.

**I fucked it up Mum.  
-  
What happened sweetheart?  
/Mum <3  
-  
We were watching a movie and he took my phone so I reached for it. Suddenly we were on the floor and Chris was on top of me. I kissed him and he ran away. I don’t know what to do Mum.  
-  
Look honey. I’ll buy you a big pack of chocolate pudding, come home and we’ll watch Amelie from Montmartre and you can cry as much as you want to.  
/Mum <3**

Chris feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Had Tom felt like that when Chris rushed away? Rejected? Chris had just wanted to think. He never meant to make Tom cry. Oh god. What has he done? Has he made Tom feel like this? He just wanted to...

What did he want to do? Back then he wanted to get rid of Tom. Now he just wants Tom to smile. Chris looks down at Tom’s phone, feeling his heart being pierced by shrapnel while he reads the next conversation. 

**I don’t think Chris wants to be my friend anymore.  
-  
Don’t worry Tom, there will be more people ;-)  
/Mum <3  
-  
No there wont! Because I’m disgusting and gay! No one likes faggots! **

Chris wants to blow his own head off. This is sent last Wednesday when Chris told Tom he was a fag and disgusting. Hadn’t he promised himself that he would be kind to Tom? Oh god! He’s the biggest ass that ever assed. Balls. With a sigh he reads the last couple of text, he doesn’t know why. Maybe he hopes for some kind of miracle. 

**We love you sweetheart  
/Mum <3  
-  
Tom?  
/Mum <3  
-  
Tom, where are you?  
/Mum <3  
-  
Please answer the phone Tom  
/Mum <3**

The next text is sent from Tom’s phone but it’s obviously not Tom writing it.

**Tom’s with me Diana. I found him in our changing room. He’s upset but otherwise alright. He doesn’t want to go home so I’ll take him to my place and talk to him. I’ll give him food and a bed so just relax Diana. Things will get better.  
/Kenneth**

Chris feels like his heart has been ripped out and stomped on. He’s the _biggest_ idiot in the entire world. Why did he do this? Why did he make Tom feel this way? Why? 

Because he was afraid of being alone.

But he wouldn’t have been alone. Not with Tom. It would have been the two of them and two is enough. You’re not alone when you’re with someone else. But instead of doing what he wants and what would have been best he had crushed the last of Tom confidence and then wallowed in self pity. WHY? 

He forced Tom to be alone just for nothing. He forced Tom to be miserable just for nothing. He forced Tom to feel disgusting and hated just for bloody _nothing_. 

He needs to make this right. He needs to tell Tom how he really feels. He needs to kiss Tom and hug Tom and love Tom and be with Tom and just TOM!

He feels a smile spread across his lips. He going to do it. He’s going to tell Tom he loves him.   
He’s going to properly apologize and then everything will be alright. It will be the two of them and no one is going to be alone on unloved. 

With a sudden rush of energy, Chris practically leaps of the bed and runs out into the hallway. 

“Tom!” He calls even though he knows Tom is long gone. 

He throws on his jacket and pushes his feet into his shoes, not caring about properly tying them. With Tom’s phone clutched tightly in his left hand and his Oyster card in his right, he pushes open the door with his shoulder[1].

“Wooo. Chris!” His mom yelps as he almost runs into her. “Where are you going?” 

Chris stops, turns around and spills the beans.

“Mom. I’m gay. I’m in love with my best friend and I’m going to tell him.” 

He gives her a peck on the cheek and runs down the stairs. After a moment he can hear Leonie call after him:

“Say hello to Tom from me!”

* * *

When Diana opens the door all the courage Chris had gathered up completely leaves him. She looks like a bear, wearing a flowery dress, ready to attack. She’s on the phone with someone, someone who’s complaining about something.

“You know Chris.” DIana says suddenly, interrupting the person on the phone. For a moment Chris thinks she’s talking to him but when she puts the phone on speaker it’s clear that the message was directed to whoever is on the other line.

“ _Yeah._ ” Kenneth’s voice says through the phone’s speaker. 

“He’s just told Tom they can’t be friends anymore because Tom is gay. Somehow he’s also managed to convince Tom that that’s his fault. _That’s_ the reason Tom won’t be coming to practise today.” Diana says, her eyes burning Chris with their intense glare.

There is a moment of silence before Kenneth explodes with rage.

“ _That fucking piece of shit! I’m going to kill him. How dare he! How dare he. Tom is the nicest boy in the whole world and Chris tells him that. I-_ ”

“Oh. I’ve got to go. Chris just showed up.” Diana says, unimpressed, over the cursing from the phone and hangs up. 

“Chris.” She says in that voice only mothers can use. The one that makes you feel like the worst person in the world.

“Ma’am.” Chris says. “Can I come in?” 

“No.”

“Please. It’s really important.”

“Give me one reason to why I shouldn’t slam the door in your face right this instant.” Diana crosses her arms, managing to tower over Chris even though he’s a foot taller than her. 

“Because I’m in love with your son.” Chris says, his voice quieter than normal. He feels like his stomach wants to run away, or that he might have left it at home. 

Diana’s face remains emotionless.

“Then why did you treat him like you did?” She inquires, her voice unimpressed. 

“Because I was scared. I didn’t know what to do when I realised that I was in love with Tom, I felt so lost, so I thought if I pushed Tom away I wouldn’t have to deal with my feelings but it just got worse.” Chris kicks at the ground and squirms a bit.

“Why did you change your mind?” Diana questions, still looking at Chris with a scolding look. 

“Because I realised that what I did was awful and selfish and just stupid and that as long as I had Tom I wouldn’t be alone. Please Diana. At least let me apologize to him” 

Diana stares at him for moment, as if determining whether Chris is worthy or not, before pulling him into his chest in a big hug. Chris feels the air being pushed out of his lunges by the force behind the embrace but he doesn’t mind. This must mean he passed whatever test Diana was putting him under, and by extension that means he can meet Tom. 

“I understand Chris. You should have seen Tom when he realised he was gay.” She says with a fond laugh. “But that’s a story for another time.” She pulls away and looks Chris deep in the eyes. “Now. Go and tell Tom that but make sure you do it better than you did just now. He really needs someone and I think you might be that one.” 

Chris nods and Diana pushes him through the door and up the stairs. Feeling nervous, but in a good way, Chris walks towards Tom’s door, Diana still urging him along. 

“Tom.” She knocks at her son’s door. 

“Leave! Me! Alone!” Tom’s voice is followed by a ‘thump’ as something hits the door.

“Chris is here.” She tells him. 

“I don’t care.” Tom’s voice is thick and Chris can hear quiet sobs from where he’s standing. 

“He’s got something really important to tell you sweetheart.” Diana coaxes.

“I don’t CARE!” 

“Well I’m letting him in. You can thank me later.” She sniffs and turns towards Chris. “Go on. I’ll make some tea. It usually gets him in a better mood.” 

Chris watches as Diana disappears down the stairs, his stomach twisting in both anticipation and worry at the thought of seeing Tom. 

He places a hand on the handle, takes a deep breath, and opens the door. Chris hesitantly walks inside, stepping over the stuffed bear Tom had thrown at the door, and closes the door quietly behind him. 

Tom is sitting on his bed with his back against Chris. He’s sniffing every once in a while, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. The bed he’s sitting on looking like someone has decided to change the sheets but changed their mind in the middle of it. The duvet is draped over the bed end and the pillows are strewn on the floor around the bed. The sheets have come loose in the corners and there is a stuffed animal in skating attire with its head torn off hanging halfway off the bed. 

“Hi.” Chris says sheepishly. 

“If you’re going to tease me just get it over with.” Tom mumbles.

“No Tom I- I came here to tell you something.” Chris walks over and sits down next to Tom. The britt turns his head away from Chris in a stubborn gesture. 

“I’m sorry Tom.” Chris begins. “I’ve been treating you really shitty.” He places a hand on Tom’s shoulder but Tom shrugs it off. Swallowing Chris decides that this is not the time act cool and that in order to show Tom just how real this is he has to wear his heart on his sleeve. 

“I’m in love with you.” He says. “I’ve been in love with you for weeks. I didn’t realise it at first but when I did I was scared, terrified. I didn’t want to be gay because I thought that everyone would hate me if I was and that I would be alone. To counter my feelings I decided to push you away, that’s why I treated you like shit. 

“The more I was ignoring you the worse I felt. I thought that had to do with you first, that it was your fault, when in reality it was mine. It wasn’t until I rejected you that I realised what I had done and who I had lost. I’m really sorry for what I have done and if you would allow it I would very much like to...be with you.” Chris finishes weakly. 

“You don’t have to pretend you like me.” Tom says and looks down at his hands, still sniffing slightly. 

“Tom I'm not pretending!” Chris insists, taking hold of Tom’s shoulder and pushing, forcing Tom to face him. Tom’s eyes are puffy and bloodshot and his nose is red from crying.

Chris raises his hand and places it on the side of Tom’s face, wiping away the tear tracks with his thumb. “I’m in love with you, so very much.” 

Taking a deep breath, he decides that this is it. Either this works and Tom realises that Chris is telling the truth, or Chris will have to accept that his stupidity ruined this and that there won’t be a second chance. 

Chris leans forwards and presses his lips against Tom’s, trying to show him through the kiss just how much he feels for the boy. Tom is unresponsive, his lips tightly sealed and his eyes squeezed shut. Chris brings his other hand up, threading his fingers through Tom’s hair and tries to deepen his kiss but Tom won’t let him. Tom doesn’t do anything. He just sits there. 

Chris pulls back, rests his forehead against Tom’s and whispers: “Please.” Because it hurts. It hurts to have Tom this unresponsive. It hurts to know that his own stupid pride made him lose Tom. 

He kisses Tom again and tells himself that this is really it. If Tom doesn’t respond now he will walk out of here and forget about his stupid feelings. 

Tom is still in Chris’ hands, but a moment later he melts, his hands coming up to rest on Chris’ shoulders and pulling the Australian closer to himself. Chris runs his fingers through Tom’s hair, grabbing hold at the back of the younger man’s and tilting his head. Tom’s fingers twitch on his shoulders and he parts his mouth, allowing Chris to run his tongue on the inside of Tom’s teeth. 

They fall sideways down on the bed, Tom landing on top of Chris, and continue their kissing. Or maybe Chris should see it as a make out session now. Chris trails the hand that isn’t fisted Tom’s hair down to the small of his back, pressing Tom flush to himself. Tom’s hands are clutching hard at his shoulders and his body is so warm and feels so right against Chris’. 

As Chris grabs hold of Tom’s ass (and wow, when did he get so comfortable with his sexuallity?) Tom yelps and parts from Chris. Chris feels absolutely terrified for a moment but then he hears Tom laugh and relaxes.

“I’m dreaming.” Tom says as he rests his head on Chris’ shoulder. “I’ve fallen asleep and now I’m dreaming.” He looks up at Chris. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.” He says and his voice breaks. 

“You’re not dreaming Tom.” Chris says and smiles. 

“Okay.” Tom says and slides off Chris, snuggling into his side. “I trust you Chris.” 

Chris runs his hand through Tom’s hair and kisses the crown of his head. 

“I promise I will never leave you alone again.” He whispers, the words intended for Tom and Tom only. 

They lay like that for several minutes. Tom pressed against his side and Chris’ legs hanging off the side of Tom’s bed. The rhythm of Tom’s breath lulls Chris to a semi conscious state and when Tom fists his hand in Chris’ t-shirt he places his own hand on top without really noticing.

It’s not until Diana walks in fifteen minutes later and Tom’s head leaves his Chest that he becomes aware of how he’s holding Tom’s hand and waist. 

“Mum.” Tom squeaks and scrambles off Chris. 

“I hope I’m not walking in on something.” She coos and Tom blushes. 

“Mum! I- You- No- We.”

“It’s fine Diana.” Chris says, sits up and takes Tom’s hand in his. 

“I’ve made tea. I thought it would make you feel better sweetheart.” She tells Tom, a fond smile on her lips. “It’s down in the library. I thought the two of you might like to cuddle up under some throws.” She leans against the door frame and hums contentedly. 

“Sure. Right Tom?” Chris says and squeezes Tom’s hand. Tom seems to have stopped working so Chris decides that Tom probably needs some tea. He stands up and pulls Tom up with him. 

When they reach the door Diana quietly asks Tom how he feels and Tom just walks straight into her arms. Chris feels fear coil in his gut but quickly realises that Tom probably needs a moment to wrap his head around this and right now having Chris there might make it harder for Tom. 

“Should I wait in the library.” Chris mouths to Diana. 

“I think that would be best sweetie.” She mouths back and Chris walks away with a final squeeze of Tom’s hand.

* * *

It was probably for the best that Chris gave Tom some alone time to wrap his head around what had just happened because when he sat down in the library Chris found himself having what some might call a minor freak out, although Chris decided to call it a fit of momentary weakness. 

He’s kissed another boy. Not only that, he has made out with and _groaped_ another boy. He came out to his mom as gay just an hour ago and now he has a boyfriend! Or does he? Is Tom his boyfriend? Maybe they’re not there yet. Maybe they’re just dating. But they haven’t been on a single date? Or have they? No. 

And what about school and coming out to the rest of the world? How should they do about that? They should decide that now because it’s school tomorrow, but at the same time it could wait. But what if one of them thought the other was okay with going public and the other isn’t? They should decide. But they can’t decide if they aren’t boyfriends. 

The questions swirl around in his head, making him dizzy and confused beyond what he’s sure is healthy. Then, a horrible thought hits him. What if Tom hadn’t wanted to kiss him? What if he had forced himself on Tom? 

Oh god!

No! Tom had wanted to? Right? Okay, he just needs to think rationally about this. Tom had protested during the first kiss. _But_. During the second kiss he had actually kissed back. He had enthusiastically kissed back. Yes. Yes he had. Chris just needs to calm down. 

Taking a deep breath and tuning out his brain, Chris looks around the room. He is sitting in a large recreation room, on his right is the arch leading out to the hallway and the stairs and on his left is the wall filled with bookcases. There’s a fireplace in front of him but there is no fire lit, on the wall above the mantel shelf a large family portrait stands. Tom is sitting in the middle with his two sisters beside him, a bright smile on all of their faces. Their parents stand behind them, James, Tom’s dad, with his arm around Diana and Diana’s left hand on Tom’s shoulder. 

Many family portraits feel forced and staged but not this one. It feels lovingly. Beside the family photo, standing on the mantel shelf, is a wedding photo and a picture of the three children standing on the ice in their skating attires. Tom looks like he’s about fourteen in the photo and he’s wearing a brown westcoat on top of a beige shirt. The oldest of the girls are wearing a yellow, summery dress and the youngest are wearing an asian inspired, white, kimono looking dress.[2] 

Behind Chris there’s a working area with two desks facing each other and on the wall a painting of london during the 19th century is hanging. There’s a typewriter on one of the desks but also two apple computers, which clash with the otherwise old fashioned air of the room. 

The couch Chris is sitting on is dark brown and cosy enough to fall asleep on. Opposite him two huge armchairs stand, big enough to fit two persons each. There’s a coffee table in between the couch and the armchairs, three cups and a pot of tea standing on top. 

Leonie, Chris mom, has always decorated their house in a very modern style. White minimalist furniture with metal decorations. There are colourful details such like pillows and lamps but other than that his home is rather bland, at least according to Chris. Leonie’s friends always compliments her on her excellent taste so it has to be stylish in some way but Chris really can’t see it. 

He likes the way Tom’s parents have decorated their house. It’s not stylish but it’s homey. It feels like someone actually lives here. 

There are footsteps descending down the stairs and Chris looks up to see Tom and Diana walk into the room. Tom looks like he’s cried some more but there is a small smile on his lips. Diana is mumbling something in his ear and doesn’t seem to have noticed Chris yet. 

Tom nods at whatever she’s saying and she gives him a sideway hug before looking up at Chris and asking:

“Milk and sugar?”

“Just sugar please.” Chris says and shuffles to the side, making room for Tom and hoping that the britt actually wants to sit beside him. Tom does. Pulling a throw around himself, Tom takes the mug of tea Diana gives him and snuggles up against Chris who puts an arm around the curly haired boy. 

Diana gives Chris his mug and sits down opposite the boys, smiling contently and Chris just knows that she’s about to go full embarrassing mother on them both. 

“Soooo...” She begins, shrugging her shoulders and leaning forwards a little. “What is this?” 

What? Chris looks down at Tom (who’s leaning on him, who’s cuddling with him, who’s warm and cosy and perfect) and sees that he looks just as confused as Chris feels. 

When neither of them answer Diana gestures between them and whisper shouts: 

“Is it love?” 

Tom, turning beet red, begins sputtering and Chris thinks his brain might have turned off. 

“Well- we...th-the- sa, hmmng” Tom manages before Chris takes his hand, takes a deep breath and says in a squeaky voice. 

“Kind of.” After a second’s pause he adds. “At least for me.” He looks at Tom who’s smiling dorkily at him, nodding with eager eyes. 

“Yeah.” He breathes.

“Good.” Diana nods and sips her tea. “So you’re in a relationship then?” 

“Yes?” Chris answers, his eyes flicking to Tom who raises his eyebrows questionably at Chris. Interpreting it as a question to whether or not Chris wants to be in a relationship, Chris repeats with more confidence. “Yes.” 

Chris can feel Tom’s hand twitching in his and when he looks over Tom is looking down at his lap, a blush on his cheeks. Feeling a sudden urge to kiss Tom but not wanting to do it in front of Diana, Chris slings his arm around Tom and pulls him close.

“Yes we are.”

“Is it public?” Diana asks.

“NO!” Tom shouts, turning all eyes on him. “Well...I-I don’t want it to be.”

The thought of going public makes Chris stomach turn. He just accepted himself as gay. There is no way he’s going to go public with that information. He’s still somewhat ashamed, which makes him feel guilty and he knows that Tom has had to endure years of teasing for his previously unconfirmed sexuallity. He’s afraid that he will have to live with the same kind of treatment. 

“No, I don’t want it to be either.” Chris admits quietly.

“Well, then everything that is needed have been sorted out. Honestly boys. If I hadn’t had this talk with you you would just continue to beat around the bush endlessly.” Diana says, downs the last of her tea and stands up. “I’m going to give you some time alone. If you need anything else sorted out then just ask.” She walks out of the room.

“What? Did your Mum just...make us have the talk?” Chris says with a frown. 

“I think so.” Tom leans forwards and peaks out at the hallway. “She does things like that sometimes.” He leans back and snuggles up against Chris. 

Chris looks down at Tom who’s looking like he’s trying to contain the happiness he’s feeling. He’s alternating between smiling so much his face might split in two and biting his lips. His breath is short and excited and he’s still blushing.

Chris feels warmth spread in his chest as he looks at his...boyfriend? Yeah, boyfriend. He has a boyfriend, not just any boyfriend. The perfect boyfriend. His very own Tom.

Feeling all fussy with new love he bends down and steals another kiss from Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] [Oyster card](http://cdn.londonandpartners.com/assets/travel/oyster/10703-640x360-oyster12ns.gif)\- a card that holds electronic tickets to London's public transport (not a skating thing but I figured that it might be some of you that aren't familiar with it)
> 
> [2] [The yellow summer dress](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nqxNCMPFSqg/TxRwacWoBcI/AAAAAAAAClQ/fC6HG1VbduU/s640/218776494367965264_pguyKnul_c.jpg) & the [kimono dress](http://tinaskating.com/cart/images/TS227.jpg)
> 
> So, finally! The ship has set sails!
> 
> Comments are lovely
> 
> Take care <3


	11. Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dearies <3
> 
> So I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but it might just be that I've been kind of sick of writing for the past week because all I've written has for school and none of it has been things I want to write. But anyway, it's a bit of a filler chapter. Once again I apologize for not answering on your comments. I'm sorry.
> 
> The subject of my spelling and grammar has been bought up by some of you and, as a dyslectic, I know it is far from perfect. However, don't be afraid of notifying me of spelling errors and grammatical wrongs. Also. I got the tip that I should use a beta but I don't know any who beta for the Hiddlesworth fandom. If you know someone, or might want to beta yourself, then feel free to tell me :) 
> 
> Now, enough blabbering. Enjoy the chapter

During the week that followed Chris felt like he was walking on clouds. He had been in love before, or at least he thought he had, but it had never really felt like this. He couldn’t stop thinking about Tom and every time the brit popped up in his mind he had to fight the idiotic smile that would otherwise take over his face. His heart began beating madly in his chest every time he saw Tom and the world always seemed brighter whenever Tom would laugh. 

He had followed Tom to the skating rink on Wednesday, the day after Chris manned up and confessed his feelings, and well there Tom had told him he wanted to tell Kenneth about their relationship because it was something that could affect his skating and Kenneth therefore had the right to know about it. 

Chris, who had completely forgot about Kenneth's promise on what was going to happen to him if he hurt Tom until then, had felt his stomach turn but had decided to trust Tom. It had gone...well-ish. Kenneth had seemed happy when they first told them and even hugged them both. But, then he had ordered Tom to warm up and turn a furious look on Chris. 

“What is this?” Kenneth had growled and Chris had needed to give Kenneth the explanation he gave Diana before and a promise that he would never hurt Tom before Kenneth had been satisfied. Well, he had expressed it as ‘if Tom was happy, he was’ and Chris got the feeling that if he fucked up, even the slightest of things, Kenneth’s warth would have no match. 

Kenneth hadn’t been the only person they had told. They had told Tom’s father as well and Chris wasn’t sure if this time or the time they told Kenneth had been the worst. James had also hugged them lovingly, congratulating them, telling them that they were very brave to do this, but then he proceeded to give them a fifteen minutes long lecture on sex and how it worked between two men. When he was done Chris was pale as a ghost and Tom was red as a tomato. They hadn’t dared to touch each other for the rest of the day, the graphic details about the lecture still too vivid in their minds. 

Chris breathes a sigh of relief as he enters the changing room, holding up the door for Tom who’s talking animatedly about how good his triple loop felt today and how he was able to really nail the triple toe after. Chris nods along even though Tom became too technical several minutes ago. [1]

Noting that the room is empty except for the skating bags of the other girls still on the ice, Chris pulls Tom into a quick kiss, partially to shut him up but mostly because Tom is absolutely beautiful when he talks about skating. 

“You’re blabbering.” Chris says fondly. A week ago, when they had just gotten together, the comment would have made Tom extremely nervous, stammering out an apology. But now, Thursday almost a week and a half since that dreadful but still so lovely Tuesday, it only made Tom swat him playfully on the arm. Chris had made sure of this, apologizing so much Tom had even told him to stop, holding him and kissing him whenever he had the chance. He still feels guilty about how he had treated Tom and desperately needs to show Tom just how much he means to Chris. 

“I’m not.” Tom retorts and sits down to pull of his skates. 

“Anyway,” Tom says from where folded double on the bench, his chest pressed against his thighs and his hands more or less resting on the floor as he fiddles with his skates. Chris never really understands what he does when he’s doing that. “as you know I’m going to nationals in two weeks and Kenneth told me that, if you behave and only then,” He shoots Chris a look.” you can come it you want to.” 

“Really?” Chris asks and sits down next to Tom, who pulls at the laces of his skates. “He told you?”

“Well I asked.” Tom says and pulls off his right skate. Chris chuckles. Pulling off the other skate as well, Tom turns and places both of his feet in Chris’ lap. 

“My toes are cold.” He says and wriggles said toes. 

“And what do you want me to do about that?” Chris asks.

“Rub them.” Tom orders and inspects his skates, his fingers tracing the toe and his brows furrowing. When Chris doesn’t move Tom wiggles his toes again. This time Chris brings up his hands and begins rubbing Tom’s feet. His toes are freezing, like ice cubes attached to his feet. 

“Thanks darling.” Tom mumbles as he pulls out a towel and begins drying his blades with the precision of a surgeon. Chris feels a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Darling?” He asks, amused. 

Tom clears his throat and shifts a little. “Well...um. I just. It kind of slipped out.” 

“Slipped out?”

“Yeah...it...umm...” Tom fingers on his blade and bites his lips, looking uncomfortable. Feeling bad, Chris speaks up.

“I like it.” He says and bends down to breathe some hot air onto Tom’s icicles for toes. Is it too early for pet names? Chris asks himself. It doesn’t feel too early. Although they have only been together for little over a week. Frowning and stilling his motions, Chris sighs in thought. He knows that technically it has only been nine days but it feels like so much more. They have known each other for two months and Chris is quite sure they spent most of the last month in a kind of pseudo relationship. If you sum it up they have been together for a month. A month isn’t too early for pet names, is it? No. Chris decides. It’s absolutely not too early.

Tom smiles and packs his skates, putting each boot into separate bags before placing them in his skating bag. He then wiggles his toes out of Chris’ grasp, stands up and begins stretching. [2]

“So...Do you want to come?” Tom asks while stretching out his calf.

“Sure.” Chris says without thinking. 

“Great.” Tom says and changes calf. “My family is coming as well. Dad will be driving and-”

“Oh...” Chris breathes. Dad. His dad. He will have to ask Craig for permission to go. His dad will want to know why he wants to follow Tom to a skating competition and he won’t settle for just any answer. The best thing would be to tell Craig about his and Tom’s relationship, that way Chris would feel better. He asked his mom not to tell dad but it’s been eating him from the inside. Small moments of uncomfort whenever Craig asks about Tom and why they spend so much time together and an ache in his chest when he lies to his father about Tom. Chris has always been honest and he desperately wants to tell his dad the truth. It should be the best but he doesn’t want to pressure Tom into it. 

Tom, who had stopped speaking when Chris zoned out, asks. “Oh?” 

“Well. I will have to ask dad for permission to take time off school and all that.” Chris says and looks up at Tom. “And I think that I have the biggest chance of him allowing me to come if...” Chris takes a deep breath and gives Tom an apologizing look. “...If we tell him. About us.” 

Tom reverts his eyes and Chris feels guilty again. 

“Look Tom. I’m sorry. I know he’s not the most accepting when it comes to relationships like ours but...I really want to tell him.” 

“Yeah. Okay. It’s only fair considering I told my parents and Kenneth” Tom says and looks up, smiling, although it feels a little forced to Chris. “When?” 

“Well, I have a match this weekend and you have the competition in Scotland. So on Monday...maybe. You should have Monday off, right?” Chris asks as Tom continues with his stretching. He hopes Tom doesn’t feel like he’s forcing him into this, but he doesn’t dare to ask. He has already mollycoddled him so much Tom has had to order him to stop. 

“Sure.” Tom groans as he stretches out the inside of his thigh.

A few minutes later the other skating girls enter the changing room and Chris is ordered out, which he silently blesses. Tom had started doing the splits and other things and little Chris had awoken in Chris pants, interested in the way Tom’s muscles bend and stretch. If he had stayed in there much longer he would have probably started making out with Tom and that would have led to a more than a little awkward situation later when they got company. Getting caught with his hand down Tom’s pants isn’t really something he has planned to ever do.

* * *

The weekend turns out to be amazingly fun. He has been so caught up with Tom and all the problems surrounding them lately he hasn’t had time to hang with his teammates.He had spent the bus ride to Brighton sleeping, the earphones in his ears canceling out the noise of his teammates. 

When they had arrived at the hotel he had found out he shared a room with Robert and Mark, which was great. Robert had been the one who had introduced him to hockey and they had been friends for as long as Chris had been in London. He hadn’t gotten to know Mark until two years ago, when he moved here from one of the other hockey clubs in town. (Why he had wanted to do that was still a mystery to Chris considering they were probably the worst team in town.) At first Mark had been met with hostility and teasing because he was so timid. He had said he played forward position but no one had believed him. Until Coach Jackson suddenly decided to take a chance one match and place Mark in forward position. Mark had scored twice and knocked the front teeth out of one of the opponents. It’s sure to say he had been warmly welcomed after that. The guy was like a freaking hulk and probably the best forward on the team. 

They hadn’t had their first match until after lunch so he, Mark and Rob spent the morning flipping through tv stations and messing around. After lunch they had had warm up and then rushed into the changing room. Chris played winger position because of his size and Rob played forward.  
They had won the match, two goals over one, and the evening had been spent in a sugar high from candy and fizzy drinks. 

There had been two other matches the next day, one in the morning and one in early afternoon. They had lost the first and won the second, which meant they had ended up in second place all in all. 

While the bus ride to Brighton had been rather calm the ride back home had been anything but. There had been celebration everywhere, people climbing over the backs of the seats and throwing candy and other things around. It had been awesome. 

Now, it is Monday afternoon and Chris is feeling nowhere near awesome.Tom is sitting next to him on his bed, wringing his hands together while they wait for Chris’ dad to come home. Tom had insisted on being there with Chris even though Chris had told him that he could do it alone. As he looks at Tom he’s glad he didn’t allow his stupid pride to win again. It would have felt ten times worse if Tom hadn’t been here. 

“Are you sure you want to be here mate? You don’t have to.” Chris tells Tom anyway. 

“Yes. I’m sure.” Tom says and he does sound calmer than Chris feels, which is good.

He looks up at the clock in his wall. Four minutes to five. His dad should be home any minute. He tells Tom this. Tom nods and shifts a little closer. His hand slides over to grip Chris’ and gives it a little squeeze. 

“Speaking of the devil.” Tom says as they hear the front door open a minute later and Craig calls out his hellos. Tom stands up but Chris leg won’t obey. 

“It will be fine.” Tom says and gives him a peck on the lips. Chris nods and forces his legs to cooperate. As they leave Chris’ room they let go of each others hands, not wanting to out themselves on any terms but their own. 

When they get out to the living room Craig is sitting in one of Leonie’s PK22 chairs, today’s newspaper in his hands and the news playing on the television. Chris feels like he’s walking towards his doom but that doesn’t stop him. He needs to do this. Lying to his dad will only make him feel worse in the end. 

“Um...dad.” He says and Craig turns around. 

“Chris.” He says with a big smile, folding away the newspaper.

“Dad. I’ve got...I’ve got something I have to tell you.” Chris says and walks up so he’s standing directly in front of Craig. Tom follows. He’s pretty sure that he’s going to either throw up or faint any second now. 

“Sure. You can tell me anything son.” Craig says and leans forwards to show that he’s listening. When Chris doesn’t say anything Craig’s eyes flicker to Tom and he asks.

“Why are you here?” His voice is defensive, like Craig thinks Tom has done something bad or will make Chris do something bad. 

“It’s about him too.” Chris rushes out and almost takes hold of Tom’s hand. He stops himself in the last second, remembering that that isn’t the way he wants his dad to find out. 

“Okay...” Craig says, confused. 

“Promise me you won’t get mad.” Chris says, his eyes fixed on his father.

“Well, I can’t promise you unless I know what I can’t get mad about.” Craig says in that voice parents only use. The one that they’ve used every time they think you’re wrong so it has become a pavlovian response to assume that you are wrong when you hear it. 

“Promise me.” Chris insist. 

“Fine.” Craig says, slightly annoyed. “I promise.” 

Chris takes a deep breath, opens his mouth and regrets everything. His mouth clamps shut with a click and he can feel his palms beginning to sweat. He look at Tom, trying to gather strength. Tom was already out when he told his parents about him and Chris. He had been out for years. Chris is almost jealous of Tom, wishing that he also had had the strength and confidence to come out years ago. He had known he was gay almost two years ago, he just hadn’t accepted it until recently. 

“Um...” He says in lack of better things to day. “Dad.” 

“Son.” Craig respons, his voice flat but his eyes worried. 

“I’m gay.” Chris says, deciding to do it quickly. Like ripping of a plastic. Craig’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open. He looks like he’s about to say something but Chris isn’t done yet. He needs to say everything or he will never do it. 

Grabbing hold of Tom’s hand, he says: “Tom and I are together. I want to go with him when he goes to nationals but I need time off from school for that. Can I go?” 

“Wait, wait wait wait. Just, let me grasp this.” Craig says and Chris fears that his hold on Tom’s hand might be cutting his partner’s blood circulation off. He can’t really make his brain loosen the grip though. 

“You...” Craig looks at Chris. “...are gay?”

“Yes.” Chris confirms. 

“And you...” Craig looks at Tom this time. “...are his boyfriend?” 

“Yes.” Tom says. 

“As in...gay boyfriend.” 

“Yes.” 

“Figures.” Craig mutters but before Chris can ask what that’s supposed to mean Craig is speaking again.

“Alright. Alright, I can deal with this. I just need some time to get used to it.” He says mostly to himself before turning his eyes on Chris again. “I love you Chris. You’re my son and I will always love you, no matter what. I will respect your life choices and if this is what you want and who you want then I have no say in it. I’m happy you told me this.” He smiles and stands up to hug Chris. 

Feeling relief filling his chest and making him feather light, Chris hugs his dad tightly. He feels tears burning behind his eyes but crying right now would be too girly, and even though he’s a gay man, he’s still a man. No tears for today. He might have sniffed a little and his throat might be a bit tight but that’s just niceties. 

“Welcome to the family.” Craig says and places his hand on Tom’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“Thanks.” Tom says and smiles politely. 

“Does Leonie know about this?” Craig asks and Chris nods, feeling a bit guilty about telling her before telling Craig. 

“Course she does.” Craig says, but instead of sounding angry like Chris had imagined, he sounds slightly amused. 

“So you wanted to go with him somewhere, right?” Craig asks. 

Chris, having almost forgotten about why he came out to his father, is startled out of his thoughts and answers.

“Yes. Tom is going to nationals and I want to join him. It’s in Sheffield and it’s in two weeks and I will need to be have Thursday and Friday off school next week.” Chris says.

Craig nods and sucks on his lips. “Okay. Are you keeping up with school?”

“Yeah.” 

“Then I don’t see any problem.” Craig says and Chris gets the feeling that if he had wanted to go with anyone else, even if it had been a girlfriend, he hadn’t been allowed to, but just because Craig doesn’t want to make Chris feel like he’s disapproving of Tom or his sexuality he’s allowing it. Chris isn’t complaining. 

“Great.” Chris says and he wants to kiss and hug Tom because he never imagined it would go this well but it he has a feeling that Craig wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Well, we’ll be in my room.” Chris says and turns around, still holding Tom’s hand. 

“No sex!” Craig calls a little too loudly and a little too desperately. 

Chris stops and swears he can feel the heat of Tom’s blush. He takes a deep breath, prays to God that he will never end up in this situation again. 

“No sex.” He repeats as a confirmation and pulls Tom away from Craig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1][ Triple loop](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aM62CMStq1A) and triple toe loop, which is short for Triple toe loop
> 
> [2] To protect your skates when you're not using them you put them in these [kind of bags](http://www.botkyrkakk.se/img/grickpase_247x380.jpg).
> 
> My last chapter were met with mixed opinions on Tom's reaction and Chris being so easily forgiven and now I'm feeling torn about how to continue this story. I have a sequel planned out where the subject of Chris not treating Tom the way he's supposed to plays a big part and now these few last chapter will kind of ease into the sequel. But after reading your comments I feel like maybe I should rewrite the last chapter. So...help, please.
> 
> Is there an interest for a sequel or should I do a rewrite (which would mean no sequel) 
> 
> Comments are lovely <3


	12. Wednesday evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Tom spend an evening together before they go away on nationals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dearies <3
> 
> It's really late and I'm soo tired so I won't be posting the real authors note until tomorrow when my brain doesn't feel like it's made of mashed potatoes.
> 
> So sorry for the lack of explanations.

It’s pouring down, the rain soaking everything it touches. I has been raining for two days straight and they are warning people about watching out for floodings in house basements on the news. Typical Brittan. 

Chris is running for his life, or at least for the life of the technology in his pockets. His duffel bag is bumping against his back with each step he takes and his left hand is raised above his head, shielding his eyes from the rain.

The golden number 14 shines teasingly a hundred meters in front of him. Chris lowers his head and runs onwards. Right before the black gates lays an ocean. Okay, it’s a water puddle but it might as well have been an ocean. Trying to quickly figure out a way to get around the puddle somewhat dry, Chris cranes his head. Well, he is already soaked through to the skin so he might as well just walk right through it. 

He begins his journey and realizes that even though you might think you can’t get any wetter, you actually can. In the middle of the puddle the water reaches halfway up his calves and his feet are heavy as lead. 

It feels like heaven to finally step in under the little roof above the door. He brings his fist up and bangs at the door, because you know. Please someone rescue him from this fucking weather. 

To his surprise Kenneth opens the door.

“Chris!” He says. “What happened? Did swim here?” 

“Yes.” Chris answers, too tired and wet to deal with this shit right now. 

“Who is it?” Tom calls from somewhere inside the house. 

“Your boyfriend!” Kenneth calls back teasingly and Chris can hear Tom thunder down the stairs. 

“Can I come in?” Chris asks. 

“I’m afraid you have to ask the lady of the house.” Kenneth answers with a shrug and a smile. 

“Chris?” Tom appears behind Kenneth. He’s dressed in a t-shirt with a fading Jurassic Park print on, a pair of old sweatpants and fuzzy slippers. He looks adorable.

“Hey mate.” Chris greets. “I would give you a hug but...” He gestures to himself. 

“Oh god. you’re soaked! And I’m just standing here like a tit.” Tom makes a move to go past Kenneth but Kenneth blocks his path.

“Kenneth.” Tom says and shoves his coach in the back. “Kenneth move or I swear to god I will eat _all_ the pudding for tomorrow.” Tom says stubbornly and Kenneth laughs before stepping aside and letting Chris inside. Finally. 

“I’m going to go now. See you tomorrow, both of you. Now Tom. Eat well. Sleep well. No doing things with each other!” He looks at both Chris and Tom sternly. “Fix your feet and pack your stuff.” He gives Tom a hug and Tom laughs.

“I know Kenneth.” He says. 

“See you tomorrow. You to Chris.” Kenneth says, claps Chris on the shoulder and steps outside. Tom closes the door behind him and makes a move as if to hug Chris but stops himself. He turns a bit, looking at Chris searchingly with his arms still raised, before deciding to kiss Chris instead. His hands come up to either side of Chris’ face as he softly presses his lips against Chris’. 

“Hello.” Chris says as they part, feeling a dorky smile taking over his face. He doesn’t mind. 

“Hello.” Tom repeats and Chris leans in to give him a peck on the nose, because Tom is just too adorable in his slippers, wild hair and Jurassic Park t-shirt. Tom smiles and rest his forehead against Chris’.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles.

“Me too.” Chris hums in response. 

Since last Monday when they told Craig about their relationship Tom has been busy with skating and final preparations for nationals. Tom has been skating even more than usual and on his skating free Saturday he had two training training sessions. One on the ice where he went through every second of his routines to make sure it all looks like it’s supposed to do. The other outside of the ice. He had texted Chris the next day and complained about sore muscles. 

Tom had also spent his spare time discussing strategies (which Chris still couldn’t understand when that played a part in figure skating. All you need to do is just skate your routine, right?) with Kenneth and going over recordings of his routine so they could point out where Tom sometimes messed up and practise it ‘till Tom’s feet bleed. Unfortunately, Tom had gotten both chafers and blisters on his feet and the pre skating taping had been changed and improved so the saying became rather literal. 

Tom being so busy and Chris having hockey practise and homework meant that there had been no time outside of school for them to meet. And considering both of them didn’t want their relationship to be public the time they had spent together in school had been only small exchanges of words in the back of the classroom. 

Today, Wednesday, Tom had even been home from school, resting and packing. Chris had never thought figure skating was such a hard sport. He had thought it was just dancing around on the ice, waving your arms prettily while the music plays. This had been proved severely wrong when he got to know Tom and even more so this week when Tom had needed a whole day home from school just so he can rest properly before the competition. 

“Tom? Sweetheart? Who was it?” Diana calls as she walks into the hallway, making the two boys jump away from each other.

“Oh god.” She says and turns around. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” She blabbers, waving her hands and taking small steps to the right and then to the left, as if she can’t decide where to go. 

“Oh and Chris, you’re all wet!” She exclaims, whirls around and walks up to fuss over Chris. “Oh dear. You will catch a cold.” She tuts while taking Chris bag and throwing it at Tom, who almost drops it. 

“Up and change.” She orders and pushes Chris towards the stairs and up them. Tom, who’s following with Chris bag still in his arms, takes hold of Diana’s shirt and tugs violently, the bag once again almost slipping out of his grasp.

“Thanks Mum. You can go now.” He says meaningly. Diana looks confused for a second before nodding and saying:

“Of course dear.”

“Come on darling.” Tom says as he walks past Chris, the duffel bag now safely swung over his shoulder. 

Chris follows Tom, an amused smile on his lips. When they enter Tom’s room there are two suitcases laying on the floor, one closed and one open, clothes strewn all around them. Tom’s empty skating bag is also standing on the floor but Chris can’t see Tom’s skates.

“Um...I’m not done packing.” Tom mumbles and bends down to throw a pair of socks into the open suitcase. 

“I see that.” Chris chuckles and pulls out his phone from his pocket. Unbelievably, it still works. He walks over to where Tom set down his bag and pulls out a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and a pair of underpants before finding himself in the situation whether he should change here or whether he should go to the bathroom to change. 

“There is a bathroom by the living room.” Tom says from where he’s packing on the floor.” Or you can use the changing screen.” 

“Don’t peek.” Chris says as he steps behind the screen, pulling his soaked through sweater over his head. He throws it over the edge of the screen before pulling off the tank top he wore underneath. 

“Only a little.” Tom answers. Chris flings the soaked top at Tom’s head, hitting the britt with a wet flop. Tom yelps before breaking into giggles.

“Not fair.” He laughs and Chris can’t help but chuckle as well. 

“So what did Kenneth do here?” Chris asks as he pulls off his socks. 

“We talked about how the weekend are going to be. We’ll need to be there by ten thirty tomorrow so I can have a practice session right after lunch. Then we’re going to unpack and prepare for Friday. We’ll be sharing a room by the way.” He adds.

“Nice.” Chris mumbles, trying to pull off his trousers without falling over.

“And then there are junior men’s short program at eleven in the morning on Friday. After that there are some post-skating things. The free skating is at one o’clock Saturday afternoon. Then it’s dinner with Kenneth and the family, and you, to either celebrate or cheer me up, depending on whether I win or not.” Tom says while putting a red plaid shirt in the suitcase 

“Cheering you up? Is a grumpy you even possible?” Chris teases, sticking his head out from behind the changing screen.

Tom pouts. “Of course it is.” 

“Are you sure, because I’m quite sure that if you look up the definition of cheery in the dictionary you see a picture of you.” Chris says. “It’s like you have the sun shining out of your ass.”

“Shut up.” Tom says and fiddles with the clothes in his suitcase. Chris feels his stomach drop. Did he go too far? He did, didn’t he? Pulling his t-shirt over his head, Chris steps out from the changing screen and walks up to Tom.

“Tom hey. You know I’m just joking right.” 

“Yeah, ‘course I do.” Tom mumbles and shrugs his shoulders unenthusiastically

“Mate.” Chris sits down behind Tom and pulls him into a hug. “I’m sorry. It’s not a bad thing to be happy. Actually, it’s a real good thing and I shouldn’t have said it like it wasn’t...a good thing.” 

Tom nods and snuggles up in Chris chest. 

“Okay.” He hums and Chris bends his head to kiss Tom’s curls. 

“I would never make fun of you.” Chris tells the boy in his arms. “I could never be that mean.” 

Tom only hums and cranes his head around.

“I might forgive you if you kiss me.” 

Chris chuckles and give in, pressing his lips against Tom’s. Twisting around, Tom deepens the kiss. His hands press on Chris chest and his breath is hot against Chris’. Chris leans back and lays down on the floor, pulling Tom down with him. They break apart for a second, looking into each other’s eyes, before Tom begins nibbling playfully at Chris bottom lip. 

It’s not very skillful any of it but that doesn’t matter because it’s enough that it’s just the two of them. Skin against skin. Eyes meeting eyes. Hearts beating as one. It’s enough. 

Chris’ brain has closed out everything that isn’t Tom. All he sees is Tom’s incredible eyes. All he feels is Tom’s curls running through his fingers and his soft skin pressing against his own. All he hears is Tom’s small moans, hesitant but hungry with lust. He can smell the scent of Tom, warm and fresh, and taste him on his tongue, mint, tea and just _Tom_. 

Tom straddles his hips and Chris free hand wanders down to Tom’s ass, groping and making Tom giggle against his lips. Pressing closer against Chris’ chest, Tom’s lips leaves his boyfriends’ and wander down to his neck, sucking and licking. 

Chris hears himself moan. Oh, that feels divine. His hand leave Tom’s hair and wander down to travel in under his shirt and up the soft, warm skin of Tom’s stomach. His other hand soon follows and starts caressing Tom’s skin in earnest. 

“Tom. Mum wants to know OH MY GOD!” A shrill voice shrieks from above them. The two teenagers on the floor freeze, Tom’s tongue halfway out his mouth and stuck in the junction of Chris jaw. 

“MY EYES!” The voice shrieks again. 

“Emma get out.” Tom growls and even though the situation is far from sexy the growl still goes straight to Chris groin. 

“BRAIN BLEACH!” 

“Emma GET OUT!” Tom jells and lounges for the door, slamming it in his sister’s face. Hearing something thudding against the door, Chris rolls over to his stomach and sees Tom resting his forehead against said door. 

“Once, my brother walked in on me getting a blowjob.” Chris says just to prove to Tom that this isn’t _that_ bad. “He asked if he could join in.” 

Tom throws his head back in a laugh and walks up to Chris, offering his hand. Chris takes it and stands up. 

“We should go and see what Mum wants.” Tom says and heads for the door. 

“Wait. Need trousers.” Chris says, pulls on his sweatpants and follows Tom out.

* * *

Turns out Diana just wanted to know how they would like their sandwiches for tomorrow. Considering they had to end a perfectly good snogging session for this makes Chris just a bit irritated. It gets a little better when it turns out he can choose both chicken and bacon on his sandwich. 

“So what did you and Kenneth talk about today?” Chris asks as Tom prepares a smoothie for tomorrow. 

“Well, we went through my routine one more time on the telly.” He jerks his head towards the stairs.

“Cool.” Chris says but it’s probably drowned by the noise of the blender. Tom has a look of extreme concentration on his face as he looks around the blender, searching for something. 

“Potassium.” He mumbles as he reaches for a banana, peels it and opens the lid to the still blending blender. As logic goes, the almost finished smoothie in the blender takes this chance to escape. Instead of turning the machine of, Tom tosses the banana inside and slams the lid back on. 

Chris feels a laugh bubbling up inside him past his lips. Tom turns to look at him, a smear of smoothie on his nose, with a questioning look and Chris breaks down into a giggle fit. 

“Oh shush.” Tom says but he’s laughing as well. Chris wants to comment, he really wants to, but all he can do is laugh. He feels his arms give out and rolls off the chair he’s sitting on down on the floor, the giggle fit making him weak. 

“It was not that funny.” Tom giggles and gives Chris a poke with his foot.

“It was the funniest thing ever.” Chris whimpers between laughs. 

Tom has time to finish the smoothie, pour it into a travelling mug, place it in the fridge and wipe the counter before Chris has calmed down enough to regain control. 

“You’re quite done yet?” Tom asks with an amused smile and Chris nods, still not trusting himself to not break out into another giggle fit if he opens his mouth. 

“Come.” Tom walks up the stairs and Chris follows. They walk into the living room and Chris’ eyes catch the picture on the paused television. It’s Tom, he recognizes that much, but he looks younger than now, maybe fourteen or fifteen. He’s on the ice in the middle of skating, his hands clasped over his head and his left foot raised to the knee. The white harem pants and gold bracelets around his wrists in combination with the pose makes him look very egyptian.

“So what do-”

“What is this.” Chris interrupts and sits down in front of the television, pointing at the screen. 

“Well...” Tom sounds embarrassed. “It’s videos from my previous routines. Kenneth and I were watching the step sequence because there is a part of it that the same as the one I have now.” He sits down next to Chris and reaches for the remote.

“Can we watch?” Chris asks and jerks his head towards the screen. “I wanna see you skate.” 

“Sure... I’ll go and fetch my skates.” Tom trails of and presses the back button on the remote before walking out of the room. The screen goes black and the text _Tom Free Skating London spring cup Novice season 09/10_ appears in white. The picture then fades into an empty ice rink and Chris can hear Tom’s sister asking whether it’s Tom’s turn now or not. The camera pans to the left and Chris sees Tom talking to Kenneth. Tom is tall and lanky, looking like he’s just come out of a growth spurt and haven’t gotten used to his new body yet. 

Tom hugs Kenneth and skates out on the ice. Chris hears Tom’s sister, mom and dad cheer for him loudly and the camera shakes. When the screen has stabilized Tom is standing by one of the blue lines a third from the right edge of the rink. He’s standing with one leg bent and the other stretched behind him, his toe pick firmly lodged into the ice. His hands are clasped palm to palm and held in chest height and his head is turned to face the judges. 

After seeing the first minute of Tom’s skating routine Chris can note that Tom surely was an excellent skater even back then but his routine weren’t very good. Now, he skates with the music, like he’s one of the instruments, on the recording he skates to the music, like it doesn’t matter. He’s still expressive and his motions are still grand and throughout but the choreography is unoriginal and scarce. Mostly it’s just Tom skating around on the ice doing different jumps and spins. 

Tom walks into the room, a skating boot in each hand and a bag slung over his shoulder, and groans. 

“Oh god.” He sighs and collapses next to Chris. “That Loop wasn’t even fully rotated.” Tom carefully places his boots next to him and opens the bag, pulling out two pairs of black shoe laces, a paint bottle, padding and a pair of scissors. 

“It looks good to me.” Chris shrugs and points at the screen where Tom does a jump which looks really good. “Like that one mate. That one was good.” 

“It was only a double axel, of course it looks good.” Tom says and picks up one of his boots, twisting and turning it around. 

“I guess that’s an easy jump then.” Chris guesses because honestly he has still no idea, all he knows is that Tom can do the hard ones.

“Well it’s not easy but it’s the easiest jump in this routine.” Tom answers and Chris nods. They continue to watch, Tom trying to coax the knot at the end of his skating boot lace to unknot while casting fleeting glances at himself on the screen. 

“Here’s the part Kenneth and I watched.” He mumbles and Chris focuses extra hard to see what Tom is doing on the ice. From what Chris can make out, Tom does...stuff, with his arms in egyptian poses. It looks not so very hard but at the same time, Chris never skates on one foot for that long while turning back and forth.

“I have no Idea what you just did.” Chris tells Tom. “looks cool though.” 

“It was just some rockers and a bracket and stuff like that.” Tom mumbles and pulls out the laces from the holes in his boot. “There’s a backwards inside edge loop figure at the end also. Used to hate it.” 

“Okaay...” Chris nods.

“You know, because your leg is on the wrong side when you exit the reversed rocker and then it’s really hard to get the edge right and make a real loop and not just a three turn.” Tom continues and picks up his other skate. 

“Exactly.” Chris agrees but he doesn’t know to what.

“Mmhmm, and then it’s the twizzle before the reversed rocker and you really have to push against the rotation otherwise you’ll end up doing a change of edge and end up with a three turn, and the twist after the bracket where you have to make sure you stress that you’re actually finished with the bracket before you start the twist or you won’t get the bracket marked as a bracket it’s just twists.” Tom sighs and begins fiddling with the other knot. 

“I have no idea what you just said mate.” Chris laughs. 

“No but look, a bracket you know.” Tom says and begins explaining what a bracket is while twisting his hand back and forth. Chris, who has lived his whole life believing that a bracket was something you put in front of and after an not entirely necessary piece of text, just nods along. 

“Get it?” Tom finishes and Chris just shakes his head with a laugh. 

“Okay. Stand up.” Tom jumps up from the couch and holds out his hand for Chris to take.

“No, really Tom. It’s not necessary.” Chris says.

“I had to listen to you going explaining every rule there is in hockey when you phoned last week. Now you’re going to have to get up and let me show you this. So, darling, stand up.” Tom insists. “Please.”

Chris sighs in faked annoyance and takes Tom’s hand. “Okay. If you insist.” He says although he’s looking forwards to hearing Tom explaining skating moves to him. Tom always looks so happy when he’s talking about skating. It completely mesmerised Chris to see him that happy and he would do anything to make sure Tom feels that way. 

Tom stands on his right foot and begins explaining. He turns around in the middle of the explanation, his left foot going from being behind the heel of his right foot to being pointed down at the floor in front of him. This was supposed to be the bracket but Chris feels non the wiser. Tom then continues and twists and jumps around a bit on his right foot before standing still and looking at Chris expectantly. 

“Sorry, I still don’t get it.” Chris says with a smile and Tom then insist on Chris going through the step as well. They end up laughing more than doing actual steps and halfway through Diana stick her head inside the room to see what the commotion is about. 

After a hurried explanation Diana sees the television, which by now is showing one of Tom’s sisters skating, and decides they should spend the night looking through old skating routines. Desserts and snacks are arranged and Chris gets to witness Tom’s love for pudding first hand. Emma joins them and so does James and the whole family plus Chris settles down in the living room. 

Chris laughs at one of the earliest competitions where a five year old Tom forgets his routine and decides to just walk off the ice and amazes at a twelve year old Tom landing his first triple in competition.

He sees both of Tom’s sister as well. Sarah, who’s two years older than Tom, is a bubbly skater with tons of energy, which results in her using too much force behind the jumps and spins and therefore messing them up (at least according to Tom). When Tom is fourteen she skates her last competition. Emma, the younger one, is a graceful skater but she never quite got the technique and in one clip where Tom is ten you can hear her ask why Tom is so good and telling her parents that it’s unfair. She has her last competition when she’s fourteen and Tom is fifteen. 

It’s quite amazing to see how Tom grow up on the ice like this. Chris quickly understands that Tom has always been expressive and an entertainer but it’s not until Tom is fifteen that the routines make him justice. Before that they’re bland and even Chris can understand that there have been little effort put down into the routine. He asks Tom, who has finished replacing his laces and moved on to cutting the padding, about this and Tom tells him that he used to have his routines made by the previous head coach until Kenneth started working at the club and took it upon himself to make Tom ‘propper routines’. Apparently it was not until then Tom really begun to excel in skating.

“You were adorable when you were little.” Chris tells him later when they’re in the bathroom preparing for bed. Tom, who’s got his toothbrush in his mouth, just raises his right eyebrow in response. Chris chuckles and gathers his hair in a bun at his neck before moving to embrace Tom from behind.

“You’re still adorable.” 

Tom rolls his eyes but there’s a smile playing on his lips. He finishes brushing his teeth and then leans back against Chris, humming contentedly. They begin swaying slowly side to side, Tom’s arms coming up to rest atop of Chris’. They don’t say anything, there is no need, they just hold each other close. 

“Tom, have you oh...” The door opens, James sticks his head in and then quickly closes the door. Tom jerks and tenses in Chris arms and as the door closes he moves away from Chris’ embrace. Chris sighs.

“Sorry!” He can hear James call through the door. Pulling Tom down to give him a peck on the forehead will have to do as replacement for holding him in his arms. He picks up his toothbrush and puts toothpaste on it while Tom cuts his toenails. It feels oddly domestic and Chris feels something warm and fluffy settle in his stomach. 

They slept together that night. Chris had been given a mattress on the floor next to Tom’s bed where he would sleep and they had both been given stern looks from Diana as she told them to keep their hands off each other. Still, it hadn’t taken more than five minutes after the lights were turned off before Chris could hear Tom slip out of his bed and kneel down next to him, silently asking if he could sleep next to Chris. Chris had simply lifted the covers and Tom had laid down next to him, snuggling up and burying his nose in Chris chest. 

“I’m nervous.” he had whispered. “About tomorrow.” 

Chris had tightened his arms around Tom and said: “Don’t be. You will do great.” 

“But what if I fail. What if something happens and I just skate terribly.” 

“You won’t.” Chris had mumbled and kissed Tom’s curls. “I believe in you.”


	13. Thrusday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is a travelling day, and tomorrow there is no turning back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies.
> 
> Bad news first. I will have to take a brake in updating. I will definitely not be able to update next monday and probably not be able to update the monday after that. I am currently trying to coordinate two jobs, school and a figure skating production and there has simply not been time for writing. The eight of April is my dead line for handing in my report on my senior year project and the day before that I will be spending the whole day at the skating rink preforming. So I until I've passed that date I will have very little time over for writing.
> 
> Okay, so now that you know that thank you all for your continuing amazing support. I die of bubbliness every time I read your comments or see the kudos and bookmarks. Love you all <3 And thank you those who want to bee my beta. I've decided to take you all :D I will give you my mail and if you still want to take it on just send me a mail :) 
> 
> So now, enjoy the chapter :)

It’s warm. Too warm. He squirms and kicks his feet to get the duvet of him. Something hums next to him and Chris turns his head to where the sound came from and a smile spreads across his lips. Tom is curled up next to him, his head nestled in the crook of Chris’ arm and his hand is grasping his shirt. Chris strokes Tom’s calf with his foot and Tom responds by snuggling closer. 

A yawn later the door to Tom’s room opens and Diana sticks her head inside. Chris turns his head and blinks sleep out of his eyes.

“Chris, time to get up.” She whispers. 

Chris nods and hides another yawn behind his hand. He wiggles out of Tom’s hold and picks up the clothes he picked out yesterday. Diana closes the door silently behind him as he walks out.

“Breakfast downstairs. We’ll start packing the car at six thirty.” She gives him a clap on the cheek and walks away. Chris yawns and slowly makes his way down the stairs. It’s ten minutes to six in the morning and Chris feels like he might as well have gone without sleep based on how tired he is. 

Diana had gone through this morning’s routine yesterday. Wake up at 5:50. Pack car at 6:30. Wake Tom at 6:35. Kenneth arrives at 6:40. Head off at 6:45. During the time he had between packing the car and breakfast he had to do his whole morning routine and help with other preparations before the competition. He and James are going to prepare the car and organize the packing while Diana and Emma make the final preparations with the food. Tom is going to sleep, because he needs the best possible potential for the competition. Chris wishes he needs the best possible potential as well. 

The breakfast is a glass of orange juice and two toasts with marmelade. Chris is honestly too tired to enjoy any of it. He brushes his hair and redoes his bun next before making his way inside Tom’s room to fetch his and Tom’s bags. He smiles at the curly hair boy drooling on the mattress, a pillow clutched in his arms.

Moving as quietly as he can he picks up his duffel bag and one of Tom’s smaller suitcases and sneaks out of the room. As he puts down the bags Emma walks past. 

“You do know that you can blow a bomb next to his head and he won’t wake up.” She tells him and pulls her hair into a ponytail. 

“Hm?” Chris hmms.

“Tom. Can’t bloody well wake ‘im up. Sleeps harder than the dead.” She tells him. When he frowns at her she just rolls her eyes and walks away, muttering: 

“Whatever.” 

Chris turns back and continues to load suitcases and garment bags out of Tom’s room. Turns out Emma was right. He manages to accidentally bang one of the suitcases on Tom’s bed and Tom doesn’t even twitch. Chris would have been up and out of the bed before anyone could blink if that were to happen when he was sleeping. 

He then joins James by the car and together they fold down the spare seats in the trunk. They begin to pack, Chris loading bags and suitcases and James placing them. Kenneth arrives minutes after they are done packing. He looks like he always does. Alert and superior in a friendly way. Like an uncle. Since Chris and Tom came out to him he has gotten a lot nicer to Chris, which he appreciates. It’s easier to keep Tom happy if he sees even to Kenneth, and Chris would do anything to keep Tom happy. A friendlier Kenneth is a huge help along the way.

“Is he up yet?” Is the first thing Kenneth says and James laughs, his tongue poking through his teeth. It’s almost spooky how alike Tom and James are at times. 

“I think so. Diana probably put Emma on the job so he should be up.” James tells Kenneth, who nods once. 

“I’m up!” Someone calls tiredly from the door. Chris turns around and sees Tom walking through the door, a travel mug in one hand and a wholemeal sandwich in the other. He’s wearing a pair of slim, dark jeans, a shirt with a mustache on and a leather jacket. 

Tom yawns widely and brings up his sandwich to his mouth to cover it. Just as Chris thinks the content of the sandwich is about to drop out and onto the ground Kenneth calls:

“Sandwich Tom.” 

Tom saves his sandwich in the final second and, judging from the way Kenneth sighs, this isn’t unusual behavior for a tried Tom. His boyfriend makes his way over to Chris and walks right into his arms, resting his head against Chris’ shoulder.

“‘m tired.” Tom mumbles.

“You don’t say mate?” Chris laughs and feels Tom nod. 

“Give him ten minutes more and allow him to finish his tea and he’ll be working normally.” Kenneth tells him as he walks by. 

He guides Tom into the car and gets in next to him in the back seat. James will be driving the two of them and Diana to Sheffield and Kenneth will be taking Emma. Neither of them had a car that was big enough to take them all at the same time so they had to split up. Tom had first choice reserved and had picked him and Chris in the family’s car, then he hadn’t cared anymore. 

From his left Tom mumbles something about scones and James hums noncommittally. A minute later Tom is sleeping again.

“Is he always like this in the morning?” Chris asks. How Tom ever manages to get up in time for his before school practises is a complete mystery to Chris. 

“Yep, from the day he was born.” James tells him and starts the car.

Little over three hours later they rolled into the parking lot for the hotel they were staying at. It was a three story hotel with a heated pool and restaurant. Tom had woken up about an hour ago and were now his normal cheery self. 

“We’re here!” Diana singsongs and jumps out of the car. Kenneth rolls up behind them and with some help from the hotel they manage to get the luggage in the lobby in just one round. Kenneth takes care of the check ins and Chris watches Tom checking and rechecking that they had brought everything with them.

“Okay. Diana, James and Emma. This is yours” Diana takes the keycards Kenneth gives them and picks up her bag. Emma pouts.

“Tom, Chris. Yours” Kenneth holds out a keycard with the number 219 on it.

“They get a room all by themselves?!” Emma whines and Tom glares at her. “That’s not fair! Mum!” 

“Shut up Emma!” Tom hisses. 

“Tom and Chris get their own room because they’re adults.” Diana says.

“Tom’s only seventeen!” Emma points an accusing finger at Tom. 

“You’re fifteen!” Tom snaps back

“Sixteen in a month!” 

“Still only fifteen!”

“Emma! Tom!” Diana shouts! “We have decided that Tom and Chris get their own room. When you’re older you’re also going to get your own room.” She explains to Emma.

“Fine.” She gives Tom a final glare before picking up her bag and walking away. Diana sighs tiredly and James puts his arm around her shoulder. Together they follow their raging daughter. 

“The room is conditioned.” Kenneth tells them sternly. “Have sex, and Chris and I switch room.” He warns and Tom blushes. The curly boy reaches for the keycard but Kenneth yanks it away before he can take it.

“Promise me. No sex before the competition.”

“I promise.” Tom mumbles and Chris repeats what his boyfriend said when Kenneth glares at him. Finally they receive their card and Tom smiles triumphantly. 

“Skating rink, 12:30!” Kenneth calls and Tom gives him a thumbs up to show that he’s heard. Chris are beginning to get irritated at all this no sex talk. Does people think they’re fucking like bunnies or what? Or is it some kind of Tom-is-fragile-and-Chris-might-use-him-for-sex-thing? Do they really think of him like that?

From the corner of his eyes Chris can see the receptionist looking at them with a disbelieving expression and Chris feels the irritation grow inside him. What? Never seen a same sex couple before? 

He pulls Tom flush against himself and gives him a peck on the nose. That’ll show the receptionist. He’s not ashamed of who he is. 

Tom stares at him with wide eyes and his mouth opens in disbelief. Chris places a hand at the small of Tom’s back and guides him up towards their room.

“Kenneth didn’t say anything about cuddling.” Chris whispers and Tom smiles. 

“Then cuddle me ‘till I can’t walk darling.” Tom whispers back. Chris shivers and pulls Tom closer to himself. Oh yes!

* * *

“Tom!” 

Chris doesn’t notice at first how Tom stops, a frown on his face, and turns around, too engulfed in the story he’s telling. In fact, it’s not until Tom’s cry of: “Benedict” that Chris realizes that his boyfriend is no longer walking beside him.

When he turns around Chris sees Tom embracing a tall ginger male. There is something similar about the ginger, a nagging feeling in Chris’ mind that tells him that he’s seen him before. He frowns.

“I qualified!” Benedict exclaims with a happy smile.

“That’s amazing.” Tom laughs and they embrace again. Chris pouts. He’s not overly fond of that ginger boy.

“How’s your foot?” The ginger asks and gestures to Tom’s right foot.

“It’s fine.” Tom waves a hand dismissively.

“You sure?” Chris feels like now is the time to intervene. He doesn’t like how affectionate the ginger is.

“Yeah. It was nothing.” Tom says with a shake of his head. Chris walks up to him and puts an arm around Tom’s shoulder, squeezing.

“Who’s this Tom?” Chris asks. 

“Oh!” Tom says. “This is Benedict. Ben, this is Chris.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ben holds out a hand for Chris to shake. 

“Nice to meet you too.” Chris says, feeling more comfortable now that Tom is in his arms even though Tom’s shoulders feels a little stiff. “I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” Chris asks.

Ben looks confused, his brows furrowed, before shaking his head. 

“I don’t think so.” He says.

“No, wait.” Tom says. “Ben competed in the Oxford trophy, you know him from there.”

“Oh right. Sherlock Holmes mate?” Chris asks and Ben laughs. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re good.” Chris smiles.

“Not as good as Tom.” Ben shrugs.

“You’re too modest.” Tom says with a shy smile. 

“You’re too british.” Chris says teasingly. “Take a compliment mate.” He squeezes Tom again, leaning down to gently kiss his hair. Ben’s eyebrows shoots up but he doesn’t comment.

“Want to watch a movie at our place?” Tom asks quickly and Ben shrugs.

“Why not.” 

They continue their walk to the room, Benedict catching up with Tom and Chris walking with Tom in his arms. Tom seems to have finally relaxed, which is nice. 

When they’ve settled in Tom and Chris’ room and decided to watch mean girls, Tom leaning against Chris on one bed and Ben sprawled out on the other, Chris gets to know the story behind Ben and Tom’s friendship.

Apparently, and just like Diana had told him, Ben and Tom had been rivals to each other when they were younger. If one of them won, the other was the first runner up. They had often gotten into fights at camps and once, a very memorable event according to both Tom and Ben, at a competition.

Personally, Chris has a hard time imagining Tom or Ben actually properly fighting. They’re far too polite to do anything more than glare at each other and maybe call the other one something unpleasant. 

He doesn’t ask about the fights though but between giggles, as Tom and Ben retell the competition fight to each other, he can make out that someone poured a drink over the other and hair pulling was involved. 

What he does ask about though is how old they were and the answer is what he had predicted. Tom was ten and Ben was twelve when that particular fight happened.

Then Benedict tells him of how he turned fifteen and found that skating growing awkwardly tall over a night will mess up your body control and that was how Tom, who had been a better skater than Ben all along even though Ben hadn’t wanted to admit it, just raced off to become one of the best skaters in the UK. Tom, on the other hand had apparently never had to live through the pure agony of suddenly being a decimeter taller than you were the night before.

When Chris asks how they became such good friends after that Ben squirms a little, casting glances at Tom. Tom clears his throat and says:

“He found me...in one of the locker rooms while we were on camp in London.” Tom looks down at his hands. “The hockey guys, you know whom, had teased me and I...” Tom trails off and shrugs. 

Chris sucks on his lips and nods in understanding. He knows his teammates are far from accepting when it comes to Tom and his skating. He looks at Ben, who meets his eyes for a second before looking away. 

“We have been friends since.” Tom says and snuggles close to Chris. Chris unconsciously wraps an arm around Tom and leans down to bury his nose in his partners hair. 

“Yes. When you get past his stubbornness he almost tolerable.” Ben says and teasingly pokes Tom’s thigh with his toes. 

“Says the man who insisted he was the better skater even though he had lost three times.” Tom shoots back and Ben chuckles. Chris smiles.They turn their eyes back to the screen just in time to see Regina George’s mother pop her head inside her daughter’s room and ask whether they need condoms or not. 

Five minutes later there is a commercial break and Ben bids his goodbyes. After saying goodbye Chris and Tom prepare for bed. It’s nice to snuggle down next to Tom once again. He’s warm against Chris’ chest and fits perfectly against the curves of his body. 

Tom sighs and squirms, not managing to get comfortable. Chris looks up and shifts so he’s supporting himself on his elbows. He knows this Tom. This Tom is nervous about something. 

“What’s bothering you mate?” He asks and Tom turns to face him. 

“I’m just nervous about tomorrow.” He whispers.

“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” Chris says and snuggles down under the duvet. Tom lays back down next to him and pulls the covers up to his ears. 

“But what if I don’t?” Tom suddenly asks five minutes later, causing Chris to blink sleep from his eyes.

“What if you don’t what?” He slurs.

“What if I don’t do fine? What if I skate like I did in Oxford?” Tom turns to look at him, worry in his eyes.

“Well...That’s okay. You can get your revenge next year.” Chris shrugs and closes his eyes again.

“But that’s not the point.” Tom sighs and sits up. “If I don’t perform, I might lose the few sponsors I have.” 

“Can’t you get new ones.” Chris mumbles. 

“No I can’t. I’m getting old Chris. This is my chance at a career. If I don’t perform well enough this year the sponsors will lose interest. Figure skating isn’t a big sport here in the UK and there isn’t a lot of sponsors to get.” He quiets and Chris looks up, seeing Tom biting his lip.

“This is my career. Skating is all I got. I haven’t got any A-levels to speak of and I’m behind in school already. If I don’t succeed I don’t know what I’ll do with my life.” Tom finishes and looks away from Chris. 

Chris sits up as well and pulls Tom into a hug. Tom is still worrying his bottom lip and his fingers are twisted in the duvet. 

He hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t thought about that, just like Chris are studying for his future, all the hours Tom spends on skating are for his future. To Tom skating isn’t just a fun hobby. It’s a career choice. It’s strange to think of it that way. Suddenly Tom’s worry makes sense. It’s the kind of worry he felt before his first A-levels. It’s something that determines your future and where you go in life. 

“You’ll do great.” Chris says.” I know it. You’re amazing.and you’re going to own it out on the ice tomorrow. You’ve been skating great there last two weeks and I what happened in Oxford was just bad luck. It won’t happen again.” He leans down to kiss Tom’s curls. “You’ll be amazing to me no matter what.” 

He can see Tom smile. A small smile but a smile nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” Tom says and Chris leans down to capture his lips in a slow kiss. Chris slides down on the bed and Tom rests his head against his chest, his fingers drawing those swirly figures again. 

“What are those?” Chris asks.

“They’re my routine.” He answers. Chris takes hold of his boyfriend’s hand and says:

“Relax. I promise you will do great tomorrow. No sleep.” 

Tom nods and snuggles into Chris’ side. Chris pulls the duvet up and over them and makes himself comfortable. Five minutes later they’re both sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are lovely <3


	14. Short skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of competition doesn't go as planned and Chris ends up saying some things he shouldn't have said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi...again. Gosh! It has been quite some time, hasn't it? *ends awkward attempt at small talk*
> 
> Really there is no excuse and I do apologize for the long wait. Thank you so much for sticking with me the few who has and thank you to all those of you who has commented and given kudos while I've been hiding under a rock, too afraid to actually continue writing. 
> 
> What happened was that I just got really sick of skating and didn't feel any joy at all in writing this fic. Then I just got too lazy to actually do it. What saved me was a Tom/Chris prompt on the noreskink meme that made me write a oneshot, which made me interested in writing again. Since then I've been adding and removing pieces of this chapter for ages. Which means that this chapter is probably not very good and might be in different writing styles. I do apologize for that but the moment I finished this and was somewhat satisfied with what I had written down I wanted to post it, because otherwise you would have never gotten this chapter.
> 
> Anyway, enough about my blabbering. I _do_ hope you enjoy this chapter and if you feel like reading something else you can check out the fic that made me start writing again. It's called: A lesson in lovemaking.

They’re up early for breakfast. It’s lovely, the way hotel breakfasts always are, and they have tea enough to satisfy even Tom. It is a British hotel after all. He hadn’t had to tackle the task of waking Tom that morning. The Brit had been far too nervous to sleep properly and had been awake for almost an hour when the alarm rung. 

Tom and Kenneth spends the breakfast going over their strategies and details for the competition. At nine they drive to the skating rink and arrive just to see the best of the novice boys. 

Kenneth and Tom walk away to check how they are in relation to the time schedule and Chris follows Tom’s family to the stands and helps them settle down. Emma is playing games on her phone and James and Diana are off to buy some coffee so Chris has been left to his own devices. 

On the ice the first warm up group of novice girls skate around. They’re jumping and spinning like crazy and Chris wonders where they get the energy. He looks around and sees families just like Tom’s all around. Worried parents drinking coffee and fussing over their skaters and siblings looking like they’d rather be doing homework than watching their brothers and sisters compete.

Jealousy. It’s as simple as that. Chris has had plenty of experience with sibling jealousy, being the middle child. It always sucks having your parents focus on your sibling but when you’re the middle one you somehow get forgotten more than others. Probably because the bigger sibling is the responsible successful one who always gets praised and the smaller is the young fragile one, who need constant watching or they’ll get into trouble. When you’re the middle sibling you’re neither. You’re too old to need watching and not original enough to get praised, because your stupid older brother has already done everything. 

“You want some hot coco Chris?” Diana asks from Chris’ right and he accepts the mug with a small smile. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip but the coco tastes different. It takes him almost a minute to work out it’s because his stomach is in knots. He can see the skaters on the ice, how amazingly they skate, and wonders how Tom’s going to beat anyone when these are novices and Tom is a Junior. 

His eyes wanders to the changing room and the area assigned for warm ups. He should go and check on Tom, just to make sure he’s okay. He stands up and starts to edge sideways when Emma stops him.

“Don’t. Kenneth is going to tear you to pieces if you disturb him. And then Tom’s gonna kill you.” 

“Sure.” Chris huffs in disbelief.

“Yeah. Like, when mum went to see him on his first big competition Kenneth looked like he would explode. He had this ‘talk’-” She makes quotation marks with her fingers and rolls her eyes at the word. “ -with us after and he was soooo mad. So yeah, don’t.” Emma finishes with giving him a ‘fo real’ look and Chris sits back down again. He leans back in his seat and sighed, his leg bouncing. 

As much as he wants to check on Tom, even more he wants things to go well for him and if not visiting him would be the way to do that then that’s how things needs to be. He still doesn’t like it though.

Time seems to pass in snail pace. Chris’ legs can’t seem to stop bouncing and he swears that more than an hour really must have past. It can’t possibly still be over 40 minutes until Tom’s warm up is due to step out on the ice. Can’t the zamboni hurry up a little? Really, it’s been on the ice for like....a minute?!

Chris groan and buries his face in his hands. He’s nervous. Really properly nervous. It’s the kind of nerves he gets before a big game or an important test but it’s somehow ten times more horrible, probably because he can’t do anything to change the outcome. 

_Finally_ , the zamboni drives off the ice and the bland music is exchanged for a seasoned speakers voice. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to 2012’s British National championships. We’d like to remind you all that flash photography is forbidden for the skaters’ protection. Also, any flowers thrown out on the ice must be fully wrapped to prevent delays in the schedule.” There is a moment of quiet before the mic clicks back on. “We’d like to welcome you all to the Junior Men’s Short program. Today we have thirteen skaters sorted into three warm up group. The first warm up group will be welcomed out on the ice in just a few minutes, meanwhile I’d like to take a moment to listen to a word from our sponsor. “

Chris hums along to the crappy jingle that’s been playing through the day. He feels ready to burst, or punch someone. He sighs and looks around him, Diana catching his eyes. She looks as nervous as he himself feels, if not more. She’s not smiling and her hand is clasped in her husband’s palm, the owner also frozen with nerves. 

“I welcome the following skaters out on the ice for a six minutes warm up.” The speaker’s voice tears Chris’ gaze from his boyfriend’s parents and glues the on the ice. Five skaters are speeding around the ice and the Australian can spot Benedict amongst those five. He hopes the ginger does well, not better than Tom though. 

Chris’ eyes follow Benedict over the ice and off it once the warm up is over. He’s the fourth skater in the group, meaning that it’s only one skater between him and Tom’s warm up group. Then it’s a wait of two skaters before it’s Tom’s turn to skate. All in all there should be almost an hour before it’s Tom’s turn to step out on the ice. 

“Nervous?” Diana suddenly asks and Chris twitches. 

“Uh, yeah.” He pulls a face and Diana smiles softly. “It will be over before you know it.” 

Chris wants to scoff and say that with the pace time is passing now Tom will never skate but suddenly Benedict is stepping on the ice and Chris wonders where the last twenty minutes went? And then Ben is bowing and Chris can barely recall if Ben did land that jump he was worrying about last night.

The last skater is good. Far too good. He skates with ease and confidence and Chris can’t possibly understand how Tom is going to top that. The scores seems high too. Almost seventy points and Chris already starts planning out how to best comfort Tom. 

Once the speaker welcomes the next warm out group out Tom is first to step out on the ice. He’s fast, brutal and completely unlike the kind and considerate Tom Chris knows. He moves’ for no one, he takes the space he wants on the ice and owns it. 

“Oh, he’s got this.” James mumbles under his breath. “That’s my boy.” 

Chris subconsciously leans forwards, his eyes glued to the mop of blond hair flying across the ice. He has to swallow a curse as Tom are inches away from colliding with another skater and feels as if the air grows thinner with every breath he takes when Tom stumbles in his otherwise so beautiful steps. 

“Calm down sweetheart.” Diana whispers. “Take it easy and you’ve got it in the bag.” 

A minute later there is only one skater left on the ice. His name is Joshua and he skates like a robot. He still manages to get sixty points. The skater after that clearly can’t handle the nerves, or he’s trying too hard. It’s difficult to tell. There are so many moves and so many steps and Chris can’t even remember which movie Tom’s music is from. 

“Next skater. Tom Hiddleston from London’s artistic skating club. Welcome out on the ice Tom.” 

Chris is pretty sure he stops breathing at this point. He can’t even make his hands clap as Tom skates out on the ice, presenting himself. He looks positively adorable in his starting position but Chris only has a short second to mull over that. The music starts and Tom is shining. He brings a new meaning to wearing your heart on your sleeve with the way he invites you into the friendly aura his routine creates. 

Chris can see him line up for his next jump and a second later Tom’s done it, and Chris is clapping with all the force he has. It feels as if he’s resurfaced from underwater and suddenly he can breathe and move again. It’s beautiful, Tom’s gentle skating and soft edges. Everything flows so smoothly. It’s as if Tom was born with skates on his feet. 

During the next jump Tom has to support himself in the landing, momentarily breaking the aura he’s created. He takes it in a stride though, skating as if he’s done it flawlessly and Chris almost begins to doubt that Tom really did a mistake. His spins are centered, his steps are crisp and clear, his last jump is high and long, just as Tom said they should be. 

The music slows down. Tom skates to a halt. He bows and Chris cheers loud enough to startle the old couple sitting a few rows down from them. Tom is waving and smiling brightly. Kenneth is standing by the sidelines doing thumbs up and when Tom steps of the ice the two of them embrace. 

His scores are amazing. 69.82. It’s a new seasonal best. When the last skater is done and it’s time to resurface the ice Tom is in the lead with almost two points. 

Fifteen minutes later Tom is staring intently at his last four competitors. The high from his amazing performance was short but sweet and once Chris got hold of him Tom had entered something like a trance. He was going over his score repeatedly and when it was time for the other skaters to warm up his eyes hadn’t once left the ice. 

“Hey.” Chris says softly and hugs his boyfriend from behind, nestling up against the blond locks and not at all minding the sweat. 

“Would you knock that off.” Tom hisses and shrugs Chris off. “I said I didn’t want you to do this in publ-”

“What? Can’t I celebrate my boyfriend’s victory?” Chris insists, taken aback by Tom’s behaviour. Tom had never before rejected his advances. In fact, he was usually almost too touchy feely for Chris taste at times. Well, usually was maybe an exaggeration. He didn’t really mind the hugs or the small touches. It was just, unusual. 

“I haven’t won yet. Chris!” Tom bites back. He sends a glare Chris’ way before once again looking at the skaters. 

“You’ve got this in the bag.” Chris insists,gentler this time. He once again moves up to snuggle Tom and this time the brit allows it. 

“You really think so?” Tom sounds small again and Chris feels a little bad. Only a little though. Tom was rather snappish after all. 

“Yes of course.” Chris insists. Tom has got to win now. He can see no other outcome. “I’d be surprise if you didn’t win.”

Tom doesn’t respond. His breath speeds up slightly as the warm up ends and the first of the final four skaters takes his place on the ice. Chris looks on calmly, he knows no one can beat his Tom. It would be impossible. Tom skated amazingly. For him to not win would be illiegal.  
However, as the third skater steps out on the ice Chris begins to regret his words. He skates great, really great. He nails every jump and every spin. Not even Tom did that. And as the score is announced Chris feels like he has been punched in the gut. 

70.14.

That’s higher than Tom’s. Not buy much but it’s enough to push Tom down to second place. Tom is still in his arms. It’s almost as if he hasn’t heard that he was beaten. Chris tightens his arms around Tom. Maybe he’s just in shock. 

“Tom!” A voice suddenly calls. Both Chris and Tom whip their heads around to find the source of the shout. Kenneth is walking towards them, a stern look on his face. “Warm down. Now, Tom.” He orders and Tom untangles himself from Chris’ possessive arms. 

Before Tom can run back to the locker room thought Kenneth catches him in a big hug, congratulating him. Tom doesn’t seem to respond as enthusiastically as Kenneth expects though. And that is something considering this is Tom. He’s enthusiastic about everything. 

Chris tries to think of something to say to Kenneth but comes up short. The man doesn’t seem to be in a talking mood anyway. The Australian decides to leave the man alone. He doesn’t feel like spending his day in Kenneth’s passive aggressive aura. 

Three hours later he somehow ends up in that aura again. He had just been minding his own business. Playing games on his phone. Being bored. Missing Tom. The curly blond had been occupied since he left Chris for his warm down. Probably with stretches and strategies. 

“Chris.” Kenneth greets, sinking down in the chair opposite the teen. 

“Kenneth.” Chris replies, locking his phone and pocketing it. 

“So as you saw today,Tom did great.” The older man begins and Chris gets the distinct feeling that this isn’t just going to be a friendly chat. “We couldn’t have hoped for him to skate much better. And the fact that he’s not in first place is completely irrelevant since Marcus, who’s in the lead, is known to not have the energy to complete a well performed free skating. All in all. Tom has the best possible conditions for taking the gold tomorrow.” Kenneth stops to take a breath, a slow calming breath. Chris feels his stomach twist. 

“Yet somehow, he’s got into his mind that his skating wasn’t good enough.” Kenneth sends Chris a glare and Chris crosses his arms in defence. “You don’t happen to know why do you?”

“No.” Chris drawls. 

“Funny thing. Because I saw you talking to Tom as he was watching the other skaters. And this silly idea of his showed no signs of existing before that.” Kenneth’s voice is accusing, as if Chris were to fault for this. 

“Maybe you should be a little easier on him.” Chris shoots back. “At least I tried to cheer him up. We both know he’s going to win this, there is no question about it.” 

Kenneth takes another of those calming breaths. “Actually. There is a chance Tom might not win.” 

Chris snorts. 

“Yes Chris!” Kenneth barks, making Chris stiffen. “Tom isn’t a machine. He can’t win competition after competition after competition. He too has to lose sometimes. And the chances of his losing gets higher with attitudes like yours. Telling him things like ‘you have to win now’ or ‘you’ve got this in the bag’ is not cheering him up.”

Chris just squirms uncomfortably in his seat. He just tried to do what he thought was best. “Well, sorry.” He shrugs. 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” Kenneth reminds him. “And next time don’t put that pressure on him. He hates disappointing people.” The older man stands up and walks away, leaving Chris to quietly curse Kenneth and himself. 

He doesn’t muster up the courage to say anything until they’re both in bed. Tom isn’t sleeping cuddled up to him this time. Instead he’s facing the wall, his back towards Chris. The curly haired boy hadn’t spoken much to him during the evening. Chris didn’t know if it was because of Tom’s nerves or because he was mad at Chris. 

“Hey Tom.” Chris coughs and shifts a little. Tom hums in response, sounding sleepy. Maybe he should wait with this until tomorrow? But what if Tom lost? He would never be able to forgive himself. “You know about that thing I said earlier today.” He tries to, and fails, to suppress the urge to cringe. 

“Hmm.” Tom hums again. It’s quieter this time around. Not in the ‘Tom is almost falling asleep’ way but in the ‘Tom is nervous about something’ way.

“It’s okay if you don’t win.” He shrugs, feeling like the biggest loser in the world. What is he even saying? Why is he even doing this?

“I see.” Is Tom’s short reply. Chris raises his eyebrows and mouths ‘wow’. He really only tried to encourage Tom. He knew that Australians were different from Brits but after all these years he really believed he had gotten the hang of the differences. 

“What I meant was. I believe in you Tom. I really think you can win this but...”He pauses and turns around to stare at Tom’s back. “You can never disappoint me Tom.” He says quietly. “Every time you skate you take my breath away. It’s amazing. And I honestly can’t see a scenario where you’re not going to win this. That’s why I said what I said. Not because...I think you’re a machine or something. But because to me you’re always a winner and will always be.” Oh god. That sounded like something out of a poorly written rom-com didn’t it? Chris closes his eyes and bites his lip, cursing himself once again. 

“You’re really just a big fluffy bear on the inside, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice mumbles in his ear and Chris slowly opens his eyes. Tom is wearing a shiteating grin on his face. Chris splutters and sits up slightly, wondering what the hell just happened. 

“Kenneth told me what he had said to you.” Tom explains and places a quick kiss on Chris’ cheek. “He was wrong though. Okay, maybe you made me more nervous than necessary but I usually tend to get my pants in a twist before the free skating anyway.” Tom smiles and leans his head against Chris’ chest. 

“Tom. I really am sorry.” Chris says. 

“I know.” Tom replies. “And I do forgive you I just,” He raises his head to look into Chris’ eyes. “You’re cute when you’re apologizing.” He presses his lips against Chris’. The kiss is slow and full of trust. The knot Chris wasn’t aware of having settled in his guts loosens and he gently grabs Tom’s curls to push him closer, deepening the kiss. Tom’s hand comes up to press against Chris’ naked chest. 

They don’t so much pull away as catch their breaths before they’re kissing again. It’s more heated now, possibly the pent up adrenalin from today, most likely because they’re two teenagers in love. 

Tom presses himself closer to Chris and Chris hands begin to stroke at Tom’s sides, coaxing the most delicious little noises from the Brit. Tom’s hands are caressing his chest, the movements so curious and timid they’re almost not there. Chris sighs into Tom’s mouth, feeling himself react to the attention. 

A second later Tom pulls away, an almost glowing blush on his cheeks, and hides against the pillows. “Kenneth said no...he said we need to sleep.” Tom rushes out, his voice pitched slightly higher than normal. 

Chris frowns, knowing full well that Kenneth said no sex and that he had no intention of it getting that far tonight (he’s not really comfortable enough in himself to do the thing with another boy). Was Tom leading him on or was his game just so strong tonight? He decides to settle for the second option, it’s better for his self esteem, and pulls the covers up over himself, trying to will away the effects Tom’s caresses had on his nether regions. 

A few minutes later Tom snuggles up against his side, his breath warm against Chris’ skin. Chris sneaks an arm around Tom’s form and settles in for the night with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. 
> 
> I can not say anything at all about when the last chapter will happen but it _will_ happen (and it will have smut, I've been feeling like writing smut lately so hopefully that will speed up the writing process (no promises)).
> 
> Kudos and comments are highly appreaciated.

**Author's Note:**

> [1]List of Tom's skates:   
> ****  
> [Wifa prima](http://www.wifa.at/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=121&Itemid=66&lang=en)   
> ****  
> [Wifa deluxe skatec](http://www.wifa.at/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=122&Itemid=67&lang=en)   
> ****  
> [Edea Chorus](http://www.edeaskates.com/en/ice-skates/collections-accessories/figure-skating-collection/chorus.html)   
> ****  
> [Edea Concerto](http://www.edeaskates.com/en/ice-skates/collections-accessories/figure-skating-collection/concerto.html)   
> [ **Risport RF2 super** ](http://www.risport.com/collection/leather/professional-2/professional/)
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **[2] ****[Triple Lutz](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbeq_M8Lgtg)
> 
> [3]  **[Triple Axel](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzFGzsn6Skg) ** A jump usually only preformed by men
> 
> [4]  **[Sit Spin](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sit_spin)**
> 
> [5] **[Flying Camel spin](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yO-O6y5Jzhc)**  (this one contains variations, in Tom's spin he only holds the first position
> 
> [6] **[Triple Toe loop + Triple Toe loop Combination](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxFjlJpi5MY)**  The very first jump combination in the video
> 
> [7] **[Layback + Biellman combination spin](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THzcn44effg) ** Usually preformed by women
> 
> [8] **[Step sequence](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLDf5TTAoBo) ** Not Tom's just an example. 
> 
> Tom skates to an mash up of [La Valse d'Amélie ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpR4PwL5HUU) and [La Valse Des Monstres](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4wUNdeKcLc) both by Yann Tiersen
> 
> Thanks for reading and see you next week <3
> 
> Comments are lovely


End file.
